


Dark as a Raven's Wing, An Alternate Beginning

by RoboNekoChan1991



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Evil Albus Dumbledore, F/F, F/M, Good Dark Side, Good Slytherins, Harry is a Malfoy, M/M, Multi, Other, Voldemort isnt evil, Weasley Bashing, Young Death Eaters, Young Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-06-17 14:18:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15463266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoboNekoChan1991/pseuds/RoboNekoChan1991
Summary: I previously had two works up here before, but due to an unhealthy past relationship my account and works are now gone. I am back, and while I don't have the original works, I am trying my hand at fanfiction again.So, I never liked several parts of the Harry Potter universe, so I've re-imagined it the way I wold like it to have been.This is really a prequel for a future work, I tell the story of the first war and that of Severus Snape finding love in the midst of the war. Severus is no longer the heart broken, miserable man, he deserved better than Lily Potter.I write Slytherins being Slytherins, but that isnt a bad thing.





	1. Chapter 1

A Surprising Start

 

Severus Snape clutched at the black letter that had been delivered to him that morning, knowing full well what it meant, given his pure blood friends and his exposure to their ways. It meant someone had died and given the scarcity of people in his life outside of school, he knew it meant his mother. Eileen Snape had been sick, very sick for the past year, ever since his brutish muggle of a father had died. Sperm donor was probably more accurate of a title, but that wasn’t a word that was used by wizards, sire was the appropriate title. Severus had always wondered why his mother, a blood traitor, stained him by following the tradition of giving him the name of his sire as his middle name. Tobias Snape had done nothing for Severus or Eileen since Severus was a young child, he was either gone for long periods of time or drunk and brutally beat his wife and son. Eileen was the sole bread winner, given her husbands checkered record as a laborer, she made a living doing a quiet trade as a potions mistress, or “healer” as the muggles deemed her, but she had always been frail, the years of abuse and poverty had not helped. Severus couldn’t bring himself to open the letter at the crowded Slytherin table, and he felt curiously numb, disconnected from reality, so much so he started when Lucius patted his shoulder, quietly steering him away from the table and out to the hall, avoiding questioning looks and bringing another envelope that the same owl had dropped, but that Severus had not noticed. He had a fairly good idea what the second envelope was, given the Prince family seal. Lucius gently led his younger friend to a dark corner, putting up silencing charms with a flick of his wrist. 

Severus just stared blankly ahead, not seeing anything in particular. He wasn’t sure what he should be feeling right now, of how he should act. Every happy moment with his mother flashed through his mind, but unfortunately it was a very short moment. While not a bad mother, Eileen was overworked and over stressed, neglectful through no real fault of her own, but she was thoroughly incapable of caring for herself, let alone her son. While sad, Severus was neither surprised at his mother’s death nor feeling particularly destroyed. There was, Severus internally admitted, considerable resentment he had had since he was very small, resentment that his mother had chosen this muggle monster to be his father, and never protected him from his fists. He fingered the plain, cheap black Ministry envelope idly, overwhelmed with all of the implications of being an orphan. Would he be sent to an orphanage? He didn’t even know if the magical community had such things. He was sixteen, so he would only be there for a year or so, but he still didn’t want to go. Would he be kicked out of Hogwarts? He was already poor as it was, subsisting on the Ministry kindness and those of his Slytherin friends. The only orphans he knew of were taken in and raised by other family members, he had no one that he knew of. He refused to go to a muggle orphanage. 

“Sev, my dear friend, best not lose that brilliant head of yours.” Lucius said in the calmest, kindest voice Severus had ever heard him use. His voice was silvery, and while Lucius was easily the handsomest boy in school, Severus always thought his voice was his true appeal, he could easily talk someone out of anything, and routinely did so, utilizing his keen political mind. Like a proper pure blood heir, Lucius had exceeded in what was deemed important and worthy, captain of the Quidditch team, prefect and now Head Boy, sterling grades. Already, the Malfoy heir was showing so much potential, he was marked for the Ministry, his engagement to Narcissa Black announced, his whole life was already decided, this being his final year at Hogwarts.

Luc was as most pureblood males, especially Slytherins, a stiff, formal façade at all times, but the impeccable manners, traditions and breeding hid a kindness that was never acknowledged, never explicitly shown, but it was still there, in his own way. A softness under the cold marble exterior. One of the reasons Severus trusted Lucius, who was his closest friend. Lucius, since day one, took the year younger boy under his wing, welcoming him into his circle, teaching him and making sure he was always neat and suitably clothed. Severus would never understand why so many, especially the Gryffindors led by James Potter, instantly despised him, but Lucius had immediately accepted him. Severus could never express his gratitude, and he suspected even if he tried Lucius would stiffly brush it aside. “You’d best read the second envelope before you lose yourself in what ifs.”

“What other envelope?” Severus said, his own voice a deeper, richer pitch, like velvet and chocolate. He had long ago forsaken his accent and common speech patterns, something Lucius helped him with. Now, Narcissa told him he had the voice of a poet. However, he didn’t ever get rid of some of his more muggle tendencies, his voice and manners had an edge, he could cut someone to a quick easily and didn’t have the patience for some of the political machinations of class and bloodlines. He still didn’t like people by and large, he still preferred his books and potions, but his friends seldom let his prickly demeanor bother them. After a bit of awkwardness, Severus had been accepted easily by his Slytherin peers, doubtless upon seeing the Malfoy’s high opinion of him and hearing about his mother’s lineage. The Half blood Prince. While not nearly as friendly as Lucius, he could say he was at least generally respected and liked by those that mattered to him, something he could never have believed possible.  
Lucius held up the second envelope, an obviously more expensive, thicker stationary. It bore a seal Severus couldn’t help but remember, the stylized raven, snake and crown, the seal of the Princes, his mother’s pureblood family. A surge of anger and a more complex feeling overwhelmed him, longing. He took it calmly, also taking the offered letter opener, masking all his emotions under his impassive, very Slytherin façade, as he opened the letter, coal black eyes darting over the elegant, but weak and shaky cursive.

 

To my grandson Severus Tobias Snape,

I know you must be dealing with very complex emotions right at this moment. Neither your grandmother while she was alive nor I, your grandfather, ever attempted to contact you prior to now. I would ask that you please believe me when I say that was how your mother wished it, given that she did her best to keep herself and you hidden from us and out of our reach.

It should be no surprise therefore when I say that your mother and I had…a difficult relationship when she was younger. Eileen had a fiery temperament and strong will, which she inherited from me, to be honest, but it did not ease things in getting along with each other. When she was just out of Hogwarts she ran off after a row about your father, Tobias. I never saw your mother again; my pride was too great and hers was the same. I realize I missed out on so much of your life because of something so shamefully simple, but that is the truth. 

It may seem insensitive to be writing to you now of all times, but your mother gave her permission and forgiveness hours before her passing. When she knew her time was short, she sent me an owl. I would be lying if I said I have not regretted every word and action I have taken regarding this matter. I watched the light leave my only child’s eyes in a tiny, dirty hovel, unable to help her any longer. Yes, magic could have helped her long ago if she had sought it. She passed on her wish for you to be taken care of by us, your only living family, and her own remorse of keeping you from us. I understand if, because of the timing, you wish otherwise, but I will provide for my only grandson and heir regardless of whether you dwell here at Prince Manor or not. My own time is not terribly long, but I want to get to know my grandson, and wish my wife had gotten the chance, and pass the title of Lord Prince to the last of my bloodline.

Please owl your response at your convenience, Heir Prince  
Severus Tiberius Prince

 

Severus’ hand trembled slightly, folded the letter back up, noticing something in the envelope. A large silver and sapphire ring, engraved with the Prince family crest, an heir ring. He, a poor half blood, had received an heir ring, denoting his status as a future lord. His family hailed from a remote section of Scotland, well known for their potions prowess, his ancestors evenly split between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, so his family tartan was a rich sapphire blue and emerald green and grey. One of the oldest purebloods families, that was nearly gone now. He was probably the closest thing to a pure Prince other than his grandfather. 

“So? What does Heir Prince think?” Lucius said gently and lightly, a hint of a smile on his face, his thin lips showing off his straight white teeth. 

In answer, Severus merely slid the ring onto his finger, the sapphire, large as a mans thumbnail, glowed at the contact. A sign of its acceptance of him as heir. He wasn’t sure entirely if he forgave his grandfather, or even what he was feeling right at the moment, but he would be a fool not to take advantage of this opportunity to shed the vestiges of his muggle father and muggle upbringing finally. Thin, potion stained fingers lightly brushed over the stone, a symbol of everything he had longed for as resented for so long, finally his. 

“Welcome to heirship, Heir Prince. “Lucius patted Severus’ shoulder, adding casually, “I will inform Slughorn you will be needing to take some time away to grieve and settle your affairs?”

“Why?” Severus said quietly.

“Because that is how these things are done, Sev.” Lucius said lightly, as if to a child. Severus followed him to their head of house, who was exiting the hall. Severus Tobias Snape-Prince squared his shoulders and straightened his posture, robes billowing behind them like bat wings, heads held high.


	2. The Black Parade

Severus stood awkwardly at his grandfather’s side, whilst the magical pureblood peerage passed by. Apparently, as was tradition, he and his grandfather waited at the ancient iron gates to the family burial site, a large mausoleum, greeting the mourners, until all had assembled, and the sun had finally descended into the sea, then they would all grab a candle, and escort his departed mother into the crypts of his ancestors. Severus looked around the surrounding countryside, trying to understand what he felt when he looked on it. The first time he had visited to discuss the funeral arrangements, the moment his foot touched the dirt an overwhelming feeling washed over him. Home. The land was craggy and wild, it felt ancient, like he would see cavemen walking along its lonely acres. There was nothing for miles, completely open, broken up by slate hills, until the land was abruptly terminated by steep slate cliffs, a sheer drop into a moody blue grey sea. Mountains were barely glimpsed in the other direction, grey giants in the distance. The Prince lands seem to appear from nowhere, ancient and weathered, he could feel the magic in the very stone the mansion was built with. Like the rocky cliffs and hills, the Prince manor, which was actually more reminiscent of a castle than a simple manor house( his grandfather had since said that, indeed, it had once been a castle, but over the years war and time had ravaged it, so it had been renovated centuries ago into more of a manse) and the mausoleum, hell even the fences that surrounded the grounds were all built of the same, ancient stone. He could easily imagine knights in shining armor battling, massive dragons flying over head (again, which his grandfather verified there were, in fact such things in the distant mountains). The architecture was simpler, far simpler, than many other pureblood seats, it had a sort of wild, austere and weathered dignity to it that appealed to him, resonated with him on a deeper level. 

He could tell, however, when he was brought there, it didn’t strike Professor Slughorn the same way. The professor always seemed so fond of the ostentatious, so perhaps that was why he looked so soberly up at the foreboding stone walls and iron gate. Cuimhnich Air Na Daoine As An Tainig U, the family motto was carved into the worn stone above the gate, it means “Remember The People From Whom You Came” his grandfather later told him. Professor Slughorn fidgeted slightly, before reaching to ring an ancient brass bell beside the gate, but then the gates opened, and he could feel the wards wash over him, weaker than he would have liked, but it made sense given his grandfather was the only Prince left to sustain it. It felt like an old wool blanket on a cold night, maybe with a cup of tea, warm and soft, soothing an ache in his body he didn’t know he had. Lucius had once tried to explain what family wards and family magic had felt like, since Eileen had never bothered doing so for Spinners End, nor did she really have much magical power, that he could remember. Lucius had said it felt like a warm blanket or something similarly comforting, depending on your relationship with your family. He had admitted his father’s magic felt like a blanket made of knives, which was easy to believe of Abraxas Malfoy, as much time as he had spent at Lucius’ house in the company of the old widower, Severus could not say much positive, he did not like the cold, venomous man. And he knew Lucius felt much the same about his own father. The way Lucius looked at him…Severus would not be surprised if something befell the elder Malfoy. 

Severus was happy to note that whilst a trifle awkward, his own relationship with his grandfather was not nearly as bad as he imagined. After a tension filled walk to the large double doors of the house, Sev took a deep breath before entering, a mixture of fear and excitement brimming, but thankfully not showing on his face. He was a Slytherin after all. Severus Tiberius Prince Sr was not what he had imagined, even at first glance in that huge, grand entryway. The elderly man was tall, a trifle over six feet, lean and lanky, much like Severus himself was, thick silvery hair with one strand of black still in it, his face looked like the weathered stone outside. He had the same coal black eyes, the same hawkish nose, he looked like a stately eagle, his stance proud, even though Severus perceived he was leaning on the raven’s head cane a trifle more than he wished. His skin had the papery thinness of age, thin blue veins marring the marble, he was an impressive sight, even if he was not traditionally handsome, probably had not been in his youth either. His features were too bold, too strong, they had a definite character to them, he was more striking than handsome. The elderly man’s sharp black eyes softened when Severus met his gaze, and while he did not have the overt, loud affection that a muggle would, there was an instant, quiet affection. And approval, which he had not thought possible.

“Welcome home, Severus. Welcome to Prince Manor.” The old man smiled, and there was a suspicious wetness in one corner of his eye. His voice would likely have once been deep and booming, but now it was rougher, gravelly, and the Scottish burr was softer than he would have imagined. He couldn’t help but notice his right arm that leaned heavier on the cane when his left arm had swept up in a grand gesture. “And greetings, Slughorn, thank you for bringing my grandson to see me. I trust your trip was uneventful?”

“Thank you…grandfather.” Severus said, a trifle awkwardly. He was not sure what all else to say, but his grandfather did not seem bothered, his small smile widened ever so slightly. 

“Oh, not a problem, Lord Prince, not a problem. Heir Prince is one of my best pupils, you know, and the weather has been lovely.” Slughorn rushed out, probably making up for the offhanded comments about Severus’ lineage of the years, about it being such a shame he was only a half blood. Interesting how different his teacher had been since his heir ring was revealed. To be fair, Slughorn had never truly meant much by it, Severus thought sourly, and had not ever neglected him or treated him as a lesser to his peers. Slytherins had few complaints about their head of house, he took care of his snakes. In his own way, anyway. 

Severus Sr nodded politely, motioning to the right, which appeared to be a large library, with a roaring fire in the fireplace, and tea things set up. He invited them for tea, but Slughorn had politely refused, insisting he needed to get back to Hogwarts. And he was left alone with his grandfather. The pair had talked about books for hours, and potions, he had been shown around the manor by one of the house elves, Daisy he thought it was, because his grandfather was getting tired. He did not admit it, but Severus had noticed his grandfather slowly getting paler as the time wore on, pain in his eyes when he thought his grandson couldn’t see, more haggard, so Severus did not mind the task being delegated to a house elf. So began a few days in his grandfather’s house, plans were made, arrangements made, and he got to know his grandfather, more about his family and his new home. Strangely he though he now understood his mother even less than he did prior, because why would she leave all of this. He had tiptoed around that conversation, even when he met his grandmother’s portrait, who shrieked with joy upon seeing him, and saw another portrait that shocked him. It was his mother, when she was likely fifteen or so, but the portrait never moved, lifeless because she had never touched it with her magic. His mother was never a beautiful woman, Severus readily admitted that, but she was, much like her father, striking. She was wearing old Slytherin robes, her dark hair which had always been lank in his memory, was fuller and with luster, her face looked more alive, full of spirit and fire, not like the shell that had raised him. Seeing that portrait and what his mother could have been like hurt. 

After a few days Severus had to return to school, to await the funeral which would happen on All Hallows Eve, Samhain, perhaps fittingly. Lucius and his other friend had gently asked about how the trip went, but didn’t pry further when he replied hit had went well but nothing else. The best way to get Severus to talk was to not try and force it. 

Fast forward to this evening, when he stood beside his grandfather as the peerage, many of them his school friends and their families, greeted them with respectful albeit shallow words of grief and comfort, and took their places, candles in hand. He was bored and uncomfortable, but refused to show it, he murmured the appropriate responses when need be, watching the sun dip into the sea. When the sky was alight with oranges and scarlet, but the sun had gone, the candles lit one by one, and he and his grandfather led the black parade towards the mausoleum, which was glowing with candlelight, shadows dancing around like imps. The large, ancient door slowly creaked open, candles slowly lit up, lighting the way for a steep descent into the earth, the walls lined with cubbies….occupied by coffins of various types and ages. The air was sickly sweet, choked with dust, it felt like one was perpetually walking into cobwebs. It felt heavy, and the heaviness just got worse the deeper they descended. Severus could hear an ominous, low chanting and hum from the guests, a funeral dirge, it made his hair stand on end but he continued to walk, back straight and face impassive. The coffin that held his mother was floating gracefully behind them, in between the guests and him, the stairs were narrow enough only two people could walk side by side. It felt like ages until they at last reached the floor they needed, and his grandfather turned, leading the procession to a nearly empty floor, along to a place marked “Priscilla Adelaide Greengrass nee Prince” along with the dates of her life span. On either side of her, was a spot already marked for his mother “Eileen Priscilla Prince nee Snape” and for his grandfather. The gleaming mahogany casket slid into its final place easily and soundlessly, Severus looked at his grandfather. The elder’s face might as well be made of stone, it was impassive, unreadable, but his eyes said it all. Pain, sadness, remorse, it flickered through his eyes, but he was soundless and wordless as he buried his child next to the love of his life, he had told Severus that while his marriage had been arranged, his Pris was the light of his life, his better half. Soon, sooner than would ever be acknowledged, Severus knew he would be looking at his grandfather’s casket sliding into his place. When he had delicately inquired, well, as delicately as Severus could enquire, his grandfather had said old age and inherited disease are what ailed him, like his mother. Thankfully, his grandfather had quipped, the muggle blood had broken the cycle for Severus, so he was a perfectly healthy lad. So, perhaps Severus could thank his muggle father for one thing.

The ceremony afterwards was a blur, he remembered his grandfather speaking, and a few others who had knew her in school, but it was blessedly brief, as Severus doubted anyone particularly liked standing about in crypts. The descent up the stairs was easier, and the party afterward, while somber, was better. While it was not expressed, part of the function was to show off the new heir, to celebrate new life as well as honor his daughter. He felt the vultures of the pure blood elders hover around him, eyeing him critically, like a meal about to be eaten.

“You know, your popularity with girls, well, guys too, will rise astronomically now that you are an heir.” Lucius said casually when he had caught Severus trying to hide in a darker corner, “Your grandfather will have to consider offers for your hand.”

“Not boys.” Severus said, firmly but without disgust. In wizarding society, same sex couples, polygamy and a myriad of other wedding practices were perfectly acceptable, as well as creature mating, which was still odd to him. The idea of bearing another man’s child did not sound appealing at all. Of course, anyone other than Lily sounded unappealing. 

Lucius laughed, shrugging in an out of character moment of causality, “ It would make no difference to me, Sev, I just want you over that mud blood tart.”

Lucius used the offensive term easily, but to be fair, it was only ever used to describe people a pure blood disliked intensely, not necessarily a comment on parentage. Severus didn’t flinch, knowing his friend meant well. He loved Lilly, even though she now hated him, because of the crowd he ran with, and his new status. 

“Still, no males for me thanks.” Severus said quietly, knowing Lucius would happily bed whatever he fancied. If Lucius had one flaw, it was promiscuity, even though he had been faithful since his engagement was official, because while Lucius would never admit it, Severus thought his friend really had fallen for Narcissa Black. Easy to see why, now that he looked over at the beautiful blonde girl taking with her sister. She looked like a fairy queen, she was also smart and could be funny.

“Then how about Andromeda? Never mind, she is promised to Rab. I would curse you if you looked at any other Gryffindors, but a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff might do if you don’t like anyone in our house. “Lucius continued, swirling his fire whiskey in his glass. Because his friend was of age, he got to drink actual alcohol. 

Severus glared at his friend, who simply smiled. “I could simply feed you love potions.” That got a worse glare, and Lucius, laughing, went to claim a dance from his fiancé. 

Severus could not think of ever holding anyone’s hand, let alone dating anyone other than Lilly Evans, who had made her dislike of him plain. It still stung, to see her hanging over James Potter, the Gryffindor who had tormented him so, even if he had saved his life…technically. The Potter Lord and his family weren’t in attendance, his grandfather had said off hand that their families had never overly got on, but the Lupins and Blacks were of course, Sirius and Remus hanging over each other, but not seeming to know it was obvious those two were into each other. Severus snorted at their cluelessness around each other and went back to nursing his butterbeer, watching the people in the great hall. He may not know it now, but one day, sooner than he would imagine, his feelings change.


	3. Yuletide Traditions 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had to split this into two, because it felt like the chapter was getting a trifle long. If ya'll could, please comment and critique! I want to know what I can do better :)

Yuletide Traditions

 

Soft, beautiful piano music danced through the air of Malfoy Manor, leading to the library, a room that was only known to Malfoys or their closest confidants. The room was decorated as was appropriate for any pureblood family who had been Slytherin since stepping onto England’s shore, it was grandly proportioned room, entirely done in black, silver and emerald green, like the rest of the house. What little of the walls there was (whatever that was not covered by portraits, bookshelves and books), was a black and charcoal velvet damask, the shelves themselves were of the darkest mahogany, matching the floors, intricately carved, a monstrous black marble fireplace with large snakes carved around it, with glittering emerald eyes. The ceiling was high, medallions and coffers touched with real silver glittered with the light from the large crystal chandeliers, the room was split into two stories, a mezzanine around the boundaries of the room with ample space for more bookshelves and chairs, two beautifully carved spiral staircases on each end of the room leading to them. The large stained-glass windows alongside one wall (with what else? Snakes) had heavy emerald velvet draperies, nearly floor to ceiling, the furnishings were all either gleaming black leather or matching emerald velvet, with tables and candles scattered about for study. The air smelled of leather, beeswax and old books, the air was warmed by the roaring, crackling fire, it felt far cozier than first appearances would suggest.

This room was one of the most heavily guarded rooms in the manse, for here was where one could find books on every magical subject, including some very dark arts. Admittedly it was not as vast as the Black family library, but it was more than several other families, and it was enough to make both Lucius and his father go to Azkaban for a very, very long time. Some of the books were so ancient and delicate, it was dangerous to even open them, and many were technically illegal. So, it stands to reason, very few people ever saw this room, only those trusted implicitly and blood relations, like many other Dark aligned families.

Lucius Abraxas Malfoy caressed the ivory keys of the gleaming black baby grand piano, the music was melancholy but beautiful, masterfully played, which was appropriate when he, like many pureblood children, had been playing instruments since they were quite small. Why it was such a vital skill, Lucius was unsure, given that it was in fact easier to charm a piano to play than to play it oneself, but he supposed it mattered little, given he enjoyed playing the piano. He had decided on that instrument because that is what his mother played, one of the few things he knew about his mother’s personality, who had died whilst giving him life. Abraxas had never forgiven his heir for that sin, for killing his love. 

Alouette Aimee Malfoy nee Valois, a French pureblood witch from an ancient, powerful family, had been his mother. He saw her portrait once, when he was five, he had sneaked into the master bedroom, he paid dearly for that trespass, but it had been worth it. His mother was a singularly beautiful woman, which made sense, given she was half veela, she had eyes like aquamarine, a brighter, vibrant blue green than Lucius had ever seen before. Her hair was the same platinum as himself and his father’s, but it flowed in soft waves instead of his smooth straightness, her skin was like alabaster, her features delicate and aristocratic. Alouette looked like a beautiful songbird, trapped in the gilded cage of the golden picture frame. Lucius took after his father, he was nearly an exact clone, but his skin was a bit fairer, like his mother. When he had laid eyes upon her, her eyes sparkled with warmth, glistening with tears, she reached her arms out as if to hold her son, but then realized she could not hold her child. The cry she made was mournful, heartbreaking at that realization, but he could tell she was still happy to see him. Lucius had run to his mother’s frame, babbling in French, hearing her beautiful voice coo back. Her voice was like a waterfall, gentle and graceful, soothing, whether that was just her or the veela blood he was unsure. She had been painted in front of the marble fountain in the rose gardens, a place that had always been his favorite, it was hidden away through a maze, the large ornate fountain housed carp, and the flowers always perfumed the air. The garden was in disrepair when he first found it, now he frequently hid there, tending to his mother’s garden, to his knowledge his father never stepped foot in it. 

That discovery had been one of his favorite memories, albeit it was bittersweet and shorter than he would have liked. Abraxas had grabbed little Lucius by the hair and threw him out of the room, his small body slamming into the wall. What followed was the most vicious beating he had ever endured, and he had endured many, although unlike Tobias Snape, Abraxas Malfoy rarely used his physical hands, preferring to use spells to torment his son. Lucius supposed some would look kindly, thinking about the widower’s grief, the pain he must feel every time he saw his son, but that was beyond Lucius’ capacity for empathy. That moment had forever hardened his heart towards his father, and he had not seen reason to change since. 

Lord Abraxas Cassius Malfoy was a cold, cruel man, with a venomous tongue and always ready to strike at his son, which was a family tradition of a sort. He was not a well liked man, but he was a well feared one, the Malfoy name held tremendous power, and it was well known that Abraxas was commonly used as his Lord’s torturer. Lucius wished he could say patricide and fratricide were uncommon occurrences in his family, but that was simply not the case. The Lordship ring was unique, it was a twisted mass of snakes with different gemstone eyes (having to do with previous lord’s birthstone), all biting and attacking each other, surrounding the huge emerald, it updated with each Lord’s death, and had done since Armand Malfoy charmed it so. The Malfoys had a uniquely bloody history, the competition and machinations didn’t cease once they entered their home. Lucius was determined it would be different when he was lord…after his father’s scaled representative took its place and he was burnt to a crisp. What was one more patricide? Lucius mused, smiling slightly.

Given that Lucius was now in his last year at Hogwarts, his father had backed off significantly, Abraxas had not physically abused Lucius in a couple years. The verbal and emotional abuse was on going, but even if that too had ceased, the damage had long been done. Abraxas had always drilled his son hard, he was tutored every day, any time Lucius was home, honing him into the perfect heir. Which Lucius was proud to say, he was at the top of his class in every subject, could obviously play piano skillfully, could dance properly, well read on politics, law, finance, a skilled duelist…Lucius had finally made his father proud. Lucius had klong since honed his mask of rigid politeness, stifling the softer emotions unless he was in the company of those he truly cared for, that small softness his father would never stamp out. Lucius could also be merciless and calculating, but he also had the capacity to love and care, something his father did not. Abraxas would be prouder once he had graduated Hogwarts and joined The Dark Lord, too bad he would not be there to see it if Lucius could help it. The Malfoy heir had plans in motion, it was just a matter of timing, idly glancing at his heir ring as he thought this. His heir ring was a large emerald, about the size of his thumbnail, with dragons circling it, the Malfoy crest engraved into the stone. Someday soon he would be wearing a Lordship ring.

Lucius continued playing, staring off into space, his silver eyed had long since abandoned the sheet music, he was simply playing from his heart. He felt the wards ping, he didn’t even rise from the piano, he knew who would be arriving in the entry way about now.

The door behind him opened, the Malfoy Lord entered smoothly, demanding sharply, “Your cousins are here, Lucius. Make yourself presentable and cease this infernal laziness.” Abraxas’ voice was like a scalpel or a whip, sharp and clipped, imperious and demanding in tone. He looked like a much older version of his son, age perhaps not having graced him as well as others of the peerage. Some of the bitterness of his personality had seeped through into his looks, Abraxas could easily be mistaken for a bad tempered viper, he had an explosive energy, as if he was always coiled, ready to sink his fangs into friend or foe, whatever suited him.

“Yes father.” Lucius intoned frigidly, passing his father without any other acknowledgement and strode from the room, dressing as he was asked before going back down to the library. Not much time elapsed, since truthfully Lucius had done his hair and the rest of his toilette much earlier. His hair took most of the time, he put a lot of work into his shiny, perfectly straight hair, probably more than some women.

The fire flashed a bright, vivid green before two people exited the fireplace, banishing the ashes. One of them was a tall, elegantly robed man about a year older than Lucius, the other was a equally elegant girl, a couple years younger. The male, Lord Nicolas Vladimir Volkov, was the half-brother of Lucius’ cousin, Elena Annette Volkov, the child of his mother’s sister Annette. Nicolas was tall, considerably taller than Lucius, probably close to 6’7”, and considerably heavier, he had very broad shoulders and was all muscle, looking as if he would rip his expensive, elegant robes just moving, which was unusual for a wizard, since most preferred to do spell work rather than physical exercise. His robes were more like the ones worn in Durmstrang, or were the robes in Durmstrang more like the ones common in Russia? Nic wore a heavy crimson wool military style coat, heavy silver fur cloak along one shoulder, clasped with silver jeweled chain and wolf head broaches, tight black breeches and knee high, shiny black boots, and he wore a black fur hat of course, extravagant amber Lordship ring glittered in the light. Nic had eyes that were a mixture of emerald and amber, which seemed to shift moment to moment, sometimes greener and sometimes more amber, with wild long black curls hair, his features were less refined, sharper and a bit more animalistic, with a rough stubble over his cheeks and jaw. His manner, rather than the practiced refinement, were more casual, rakish and mischievous, until one gazed into his eyes, which were predatory and calculating.

Elena was different in looks from her brother, she had a delicate, otherworldly perfection. Almost inhuman. Elena had the same silky black curls, pulled back neatly, not allowed to flow wildly like her brother, her bone structure was more delicate, her graceful hourglass form had a proud bearing. With skin like fresh cream, her full red lips were a drop of strawberry jam, her emerald eyes more vivid than gemstones. The way she moved was fluid, emphasized by the gown she was wearing. She wore a long black lace and silk dress. The lace went from her waist to almost her neck, just slightly off her shoulders and around, with long sleeves, around the sides of the backless dress, the black silk shone in the light with a rainbow of colors, like oil or a snake’s scales, a raven’s feathers, a full skirt. She too wore a silver fox cape, clasped with pearls. Every inch the perfect pureblood heiress. Her beauty reminded one of a forest in the dead of winter, there was a stillness, a sharp contrast between the snowy complexion, ebony locks and vivid green gaze.

 

“Merry Yule, Uncle Abraxas.” His voice was deep and gravelly, heavily accented with his native Russian accent. He had a rakish smile on, despite his mostly polite bow. 

“Yes, merry Yule Uncle.” Elena curtseyed, unlike her brother her accent was much fainter. Her voice reminded one of smoke, it had a mysterious, musical quality that was difficult to describe accurately.

Abraxas nodded stiffly, accepting his nephew and niece by marriage with a cursory welcome and return of seasonal greetings before briskly leaving the hall, going towards his study. “Lucius will be returning to the library shortly.”  
As their uncle suggested, the Volkovs made their way towards the library, quickly, eager to see their Malfoy cousin.

Lucius smiled at his cousins, when they entered, “Happy Yule Nic, Lena. Looking forward to our Yule ball? I see you are already robed for the occasion. I have some friends and my fiancé Cissy joining us shortly, so we can have a bit more interesting party before the main event.”

It had been several years since they had last seen each other, Lucius thought that probably the last time was before he entered Hogwarts and they Durmstrang, but they wrote regularly, since then his uncle Vladimir and aunt Annette had both died in a tragic accident, well, that is what murder and suicide was politely deemed. He had never liked his uncle Vladimir, to be honest, but his aunt Annette he missed, she was as close as he could get to having his mother around. 

 

Like many pureblood houses, the Malfoys had relations in several different magical nations, most notably France and Russia (obviously), but he thought he remembered a very distant branch in America. Possibly. To be fair, the Malfoy family, like the Lestrange family, was originally French, who came to England with the Norman invaders, so it was unsurprising there were so many French ties. Also, like most pureblood family, there was a lot of creature blood mixed in to ensure pure magical blood and power. Malfoys had a lot of veela and elven blood over the centuries, as an example, the Lestranges had more vampire blood, the Volkovs had a mix of vampire, veela, ruskla and werewolves (a specific rare type of werewolves, Neuri, werewolves who could shift whenever they pleased, called the Lord of werewolves, true alphas), the Crabbe family had mermaids at some point it was rumored. 

Lucius, grasping a glass of fire whiskey, taking a polite sip as Nic took a shot of vodka from a tray Dobby brought, Lena had a small glass of wine. Both also downed a vial each of a potion, to tamper their…less human urges. Whilst Lucius was lucky and only had his veela blood occasionally rearing its head, he did not transition to full veela on his inheritance ( it was really more of a roulette wheel, as it could happen any time after puberty and before full adulthood, and it was never truly certain in pureblood lines what exactly you would inherit, if anything), his cousin and her brother were in fact creatures, their creature inheritance fully developed already. Nic was a Neuri, and Lena was a living vampire, a very different creature than the traditional undead, they were vampire lords. With the blessings of power and ability came the complications of urges, which made marriage easier and more complex simultaneously. Like him, they would not mate and could not unless their creature selves felt the bond with another person or creature…sometimes more than one, triads were common in creature mating. This meant that unlike their full human peers, they could not truly be betrothed, but it also meant that they could go their entire lives without meeting their mate, or meeting them at the wrong time. He had been lucky in that his nature was already bonded to Narcissa, whom he had been promised to since he was small. Because they had not yet felt the bond with anyone, they were taking dampening potions to subdue their urges around others, particularly in a Dumbledore created light Britain. They would not be welcomed in the light circles if it was known that Lena and Nic were “dark” creatures. Lena’s potion was a blood red, there was likely a large amount of blood mixed in, and Nic’s was silver, and Luc was not sure what was in it. While he was competent in potions, it was no great passion of his, and those potions were illegal in the UK. The hypocrisy of Dumbledore’s lackies was that breeding with “light” humanoid creatures like veela was fine, but “dark” creatures were vilified and persecuted. Creatures are creatures, just as magic was magic.

As the three caught up a little, the fireplace light up twice more, spitting out Narcissa and Severus in quick succession. Narcissa warmly embraced her fiancé, who had since moved to a velvet love seat by the fire, across from Nic and Lena in the other matching love seat. Severus stood awkwardly for a second before taking the wingback that was in between Lucius and Elena. He didn’t know why he had accepted the invite, his grandfather wasn’t coming due to his health, so he could have made an excuse, but Lucius had dangled a very rare potions tome over his head and then he had agreed. Now, here he was, in a room with two people he didn’t know, with the promise of way more people later. Not his element at all.

 

To top it off, he was wearing formal attire. Sev was not one for dressing to impress, but Lucius had visited earlier in the week, dragging him away on a shopping excursion which had been utter torture, even though he had gotten to go to the apothecary afterwards. Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black could SHOP. Lucius and Narcissa had gotten so many robes, also gleefully making him try on and purchase way more than any sane person needed. In Severus’ opinion, at least. Lucius and Narcissa were both wearing some of their newest purchases, Lucius was wearing open robes that were such a dark green they were nearly black, embroidered with silver snakes, with a full, perfectly tailored black tuxedo, with a charcoal shirt and silver silk tie. He looked handsome, as always, his refined, patrician bone structure, eyes the color of mercury, his sleek silvery blond hair was elegantly tied back with a velvet cord. He wasn’t quite as tall as Severus or Nic, but he was still fairly tall, and while he wasn’t as thin as Severus or as bulky as Nic, he was in the middle. He looked like a prince in a fairy tale. 

His princess, Narcissa, wore a silvery nude tulle and satin number, heavily beaded with crystals and pearls, a matching fur and silk shrug, she looked resplendent, classy. Her own blonde locks, a bit warmer than Lucius’, were elegantly and elaborately coiffed, a few white orchids in her hair. She had eyes the color of blue bells, while Lena’s beauty reminded one of winter, Narcissa was spring, her ivory skin had a golden tone to it that would warm with sunlight, her full lips were a soft pink/coral instead of red. 

Severus himself was looking handsome, even if he was the only one who had not noticed. He would never be the fairy tale prince or dashing rake, but he had his own appeal. His looks were brooding and Byronic, his features were too bold for a lesser man. His nose was a little too big and slightly crooked, he had refused to fix it when Lucius had offered years ago, his jaw and cheeks could have cut glass, his black eyes were too intense for most people, they felt like they burned a hole through you when Severus looked at you. His smooth black hair was shoulder length, pulled back for the occasion with a few rebellious strands fighting free, his signature scowl in place. His robes, like Lucius’, were open, his tux and robes matched, both black, with an emerald green silk shirt and black tie. He was not thrilled about the shirt, but Lucius had insisted. He had refused any embroidery, he wore no jewelry except for his heir ring, he was like a raven amongst peacocks, as he preferred it.

 

Immediately Severus’ attention was caught by the Russian heiress. Stealthily stealing glances any time he thought it would go unnoticed.

“Heir Snape-Prince, this is my cousin Heiress Elena Volkov and her half-brother, Lord Nicolas Volkov. Lord and Heiress Volkov, this is Heir Severus Snape-Prince.” Lucius added as a side note less formally, “You all know my fiancé Heiress Narcissa Black.”

 

Severus stood and formally bowed to Heiress Volkov, also to Lord Volkov, who formally bowed back. He could not drag his eyes from the Heiress, he felt drawn like a magnet to her, and he didn’t know why. Severus could smell her perfume from where he stood, a heady mix of amber, musk and jasmine, normally that would put him off, he hated strong perfume, but something about hers did the opposite. He saw her beautiful green eyes widen, a hungry look sliding into them, her delicate nostrils flare slightly, her features sharpen, which caused a corresponding hunger to awaken in his own body, it was like someone turned on the oven in the room. Just like that though, the look vanished, and the smell lessened, he saw wall of self-control go over her face, and she was the polite pure blood female once more. Severus felt a plethora of conflicting emotions, surprise, lust, anger and confusion, anger at himself for reacting like teen just in puberty. Admittedly, everyone present was a teen still calendar wise, but in the magical society they were nearly adults, Lucius and Nicolas were adults in their society. And then there was Lily, he reminded himself, angry he had forgotten about her for the briefest of moments.

 

The conversation was largely playful banter between Lucius, Narcissa and Nicolas, Severus was his usual taciturn self and Elena was similarly quiet, but seeing as how no one seemed no notice, Severus deduced she was of a similarly quiet nature. She occasionally joined the conversation, but really only when addressed, seemingly happy enough sipping her wine and listening, her jewel like eyes occasionally meeting his, which made them both react like startled deer, quickly looking away. A few ties Severus noted a pretty flush on her cheeks. It was as if only he and this strange girl existed in their own little world, the conversations around them seemed to be drowned out, as if there was a muffling charm on their companions. It was a rather awkward hour before the ball, the preoccupation not going unnoticed by Lucius, who inwardly smirked.

 

More of their circle arrived, the teens moving to the ballroom while the adults began arriving. Everyone who was anyone on their side was attending, the Lestranges, the Blacks, the Crabbes, the Goyles, Greengrasses, Macnairs, Rosiers, Rookwoods, Lupins, Yaxleys, Rowles, Averys, Travers, Notts, Selwyns, Parkinsons, Carrows, even the Burkes and Bulstrodes were in attendance. It was easy to see that much of the pureblood circle was naturally dark, or at the very least grey, like the Greengrasses. There were truly only a few fully light families, but far more Muggleborns and half-bloods, who were naturally not in attendance. They were likely celebrating “Christmas”. 

The grand ballroom, because Slytherins were equally unoriginal decorators and house proud, was also done in emerald, black and silver, with accents of white. The floors were checkered black and white marble, the cavernous space was painted a rich emerald, with pillars shaped like serpents. Like Hogwarts, the high ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky, the vast sky was inky black, pinpricks of starlight and a large, yellow full moon contributed to the atmosphere. The Yule decorations, namely several monstrous pines dripping with silver and crystals, evergreen and pewter silk ribbon wreathes and banners, were far classier than the average muggle, or lower end magical, Severus mused, it lacked the warmth that Yule often generated. He had been to smaller Yule gatherings over the years, he had always managed to get out of the seemingly obligatory Malfoy ball. It made sense, since this was essentially a bunch of sharks in fancy robes. They were essentially waiting for the faintest whiff of blood. It was intensified this evening, because their Lord Voldemort was in attendance. Briefly Severus turned awe filled eyes toward the other side of the room, the slim, tall dark figure beside Abraxas, Lord Nott and a few more of the original Walprugis Knights. 

He had already determined he would join their ranks, like his friends and classmates. His grandfather had approved of his choice when Severus had told him. His mind had been made up for a while now, probably since the first meeting Lucius had taken him to. The Dark Lord was often at Malfoy manor, and often gave lectures and speeches to his followers and their children.

A Year ago

Severus awkwardly shifted in his seat, siting in a circle of his friends as they waited for Lord Voldemort to arrive. Bellatrix was casually leaning on her husband Rudolphus, they had been recently married, Rabastian was on Severus’ left, Lucius and Narcissa were on his right, Regulus, Walden and Corban were opposite. Sometimes there were more, sometimes it was less, Lucius had told him previously. The adults milled around in chairs, couches, and some stood, all awaiting their lord to arrive. The children, much like the adults, talked quietly amongst themselves, expectantly glancing at the door to the parlor. 

While outwardly composed, Severus felt a mixture of nervousness and curiosity, a little awkwardness because he could easily tell he was the only half-blood in the room. Something that was not exactly rare, given he was a Slytherin, but he also felt honored. 

“The only people who attend are those that the Dark Lord might deem useful, either for their skills or their political powers, I told the Dark Lord about you and he asked that I bring you along.” Lucius had told him when Severus had enquired about the acceptability of his attendance, “He has the final say, he would have ignored me and forgotten about you Sev if he didn’t think you sounded useful.”

Severus had been a prodigy at potions and spell craft, even at age eleven. He was no slouch at dueling so far either, but that was partially due to necessity. A necessity that took the forms of a few particular Gryffindor students. Severus, like all Slytherins, was very proud and ambitious, he was determined to be a Potions Master, he wanted to be the best in Britain. He wasn’t sure he could finagle being the best in the world, but if he was, so be it. Potions Masters were a very small and elite group of wizards and witches around the world, fiercely competitive. High aspirations indeed, but Severus was already looking into various possible apprenticeships with Lucius’ help.

A hush fell over the room, the door opening swiftly to reveal the man all of these people pledged their lives to, their children’s lives too. Voldemort was dark magic personified, his presence was overwhelming and his magic filled the room. It felt like iron, cold and hard, encapsulating Severus with overwhelming power. The Dark Lord’s exact age was hard to guess based on visuals alone, even though he knew that Lucius’ father went to school with him, he seemed to have stepped straight out of an old movie. He had short black curls neatly parted, like a mob boss from the 1940’s, his bone structure was the pure blood ideal, dark brown almost black eyes, the slight patina from age did not detract from his overall handsomeness. The short hair was odd, Severus thought, because pureblood Lords had long hair, and Lucius had told him he was Lord Slytherin. Perhaps, like in other things, Lord Slytherin chose to do as he wished.

 

Those dark, clever eyes met his briefly, and he felt a gentle pressure on his Occulmency shields, which were thankfully shut tight, but rather than any adverse reaction, the Dark Lord merely smiled, amusement in his eyes, and curiosity. The Dark Lord made his way through the room, approaching the children last.

 

“Ah, Severus Snape. Heir Malfoy has told me much about you, I hear you are quite the skillful potioneer.” The Dark Lord’s voice was soft and smooth, but Severus did not doubt it could change if he was displeased. He had a peculiar habit of talking quietly, but then, the room was deathly quiet when he spoke, simply because of his arresting presence, he could effortlessly command the attention of a sea of people without saying a word. “I knew you mother slightly, Severus. Eileen Prince was a couple years behind me, but she was a champion chess mistress and gobstones player.”

 

“I have some talents with potions, yes Lord Slytherin.” Severus said formally, bowing, seeing approval in the Lord’s eyes at his formal greeting and manners. “My mother still plays chess, and she said you yourself were a respectable player.”

 

To be honest, Eileen had been indifferent when Severus mentioned his intention of going to the meeting. She had talked very little about her own Hogwarts days, and that was actually she had commented about “Riddle” as she called him. It made sense if he wasn’t exactly her favorite given her blood traitor status. The Dark Lord quizzed him about a few subjects before moving on, and Severus was hopeful he had made a good impression, he rather thought he had. 

Once Lord Slytherin stood in front of the fireplace, the room was as silent as a grave yard, all in rapt, spellbound attention, even Severus himself, even though he hid it a tad better than some. 

“Greetings my friends, some old and some new, thank you for coming.” He paused before continuing, “While many of you already know my beliefs and positions, I will reiterate them for those of us who are new. I am Lord Voldemort, the last Slytherin Lord, an ancient and noble house which will cease to exist once I am gone. I look around our world, and I see decay, once noble lines disappearing or shadows of their former selves, being overrun by Muggle-borns and half-bloods, those ignorant to our ways, seeing our way of life and even magic itself dying.”

Another pause, his dark eyes sweeping his audience, “I see schools of magic forgotten, creatures persecuted, out world is divided and weak. Our very way of life is being destroyed. Who is to blame for these heinous crimes? Dumbledore and his Light minded fools certainly, for who keeps insisting Muggles are just like us? They are not, friends, they abuse our children and pervert our ways, refusing to assimilate and understand. How do we fix this? We take the children from them, place them with those of us without children or in our own orphanages. Refuse to let creatures be feared and our magic vilified. Creatures are creatures, magic is magic, all magical blood is priceless. We need to ensure our lines and our ways of life protected, make our society whole again.”

 

He went on for quite a while, but Severus was already sold. People like his father should never have had any power or access to him. No other children should be hated for their power, no other child should be dumped into their world without any knowledge like Lily. While Lord Slytherin was powerful, he was in all reality preaching to the choir.

 

Present

Severus stopped musing on the past, watched the dancers from his comfortable dark corner, like watching butterflies elegantly float along the dancefloor, there were robes and gowns of nearly every color, all moving to the festive orchestra. He sipped his fire whiskey, enjoying the burn, and the lack of caring that minors were drinking. Still, he had been careful, not wishing to ever become his muggle father.

“So…Elena, eh? You really like green eyes, don’t you Sev?” Lucius chuckled smoothly, ignoring Severus’ start and near choking on his beverage. He neglected to mention he had insisted she come FOR that reason, he was curious to see if his friend liked green eyes period. 

Granted, Lily Evans was a very different sort of witch than Elena, Lily was an autumnal beauty, vivid red hair and evergreen eyes, Elena was very different. To begin with, she didn’t hate Severus for being in the pureblood scene, like Lily essentially did, since Elena was a pureblood herself. Also, Elena would be a better fit magic wise, given she was also naturally dark. That wasn’t to say dark and light pairings were impossible, because they were possible, but given the common political differences it was very unlikely. Magical cores were something one was born with, while there was a tendency toward dark, light or grey in some families, because of interbreeding it was really not something that was known until a wizard or witch was born. However, Lucius truly didn’t think much beyond a bit of flirting and maybe a bit of necking for his friend, who was still a virgin for pity’s sake. And, to his knowledge, Elena was also a virgin, so he really wasn’t aiming for anything other than a bit of innocent fun. Well, innocent by Lucius’ standards.

 

“I never said I liked her, I just met her this evening and have only once spoke to her!” Severus said, a faint flush on his face, very faint. He spelled away remnants of his spilled drink, a little bit of irritation slipping through.

 

“Really? So the electricity earlier was what, exactly?” Lucius grinned as Severus sputtered, “As for talking to her, I could call her over, I promise I won’t dangle mistletoe over you.”

 

Before Severus could argue, Lucius did just that, promptly leaving before Severus recovered from shock. Her emerald eyes searched his face, and he quickly located a wineglass for her. Which she took with slender fingers, politely thanking him before they lapsed into awkward silence, both staring anywhere but each other. 

Perhaps, Lucius thought, I underestimated their equal shyness.


	4. Yuletide Traditions 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, I had a hard time writing this chapter, I want to know how ya'll like it. I don't mind editing or fixing...or even re writing it.
> 
> I feel like its a bit cheesy and shorter than my last chapter...but we shall see.

Yes, Lucius thought I have indeed underestimated their shyness. Perhaps a blasted mistletoe was required. He sighed slightly, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

Narcissa looked curiously over towards Lucius’ cousin and friend were awkwardly standing, appearing to be having a stilted, uncomfortable conversation. When Lucius had asked her opinion about Sev’s love life…or lack thereof, she had thought it was amusing and sweet idea, but not necessarily one that would work. It was the height of compliments essentially for Lucius to be attempting to set Sev up with his cousin, particularly one which seemed the most likely to suit. Lucius had a few other cousins in France…but Narcissa thought the likelihood of Severus getting on with Aimee or Dominique was laughable. Although they were part of her beloved fiancé’s family, both girls were shallow and vain, while pretty, they had neither sparkling personalities or intellect to recommend them. They would be perfectly suitable decorations, and probably fine for the pureblood breeding sphere, but Sev was not one for merely eye candy, Narcissa guessed, given that the muggle born witch he had been obsessed with was brighter than average. Allegedly, anyway, given that said muggle born was obsessed with the Potter heir, maybe that notion needed to be re examined.

“Do you think trying to get them somewhere private might work? Or more alcohol? Maybe mistletoe?” Lucius questioned idly as he spun Narcissa around, the couple gracefully moving in tune to the music.

 

“No, and you mustn’t meddle further Luc. It will either happen or it won’t, believe it or not, Severus might prefer a say in who he kisses.” Narcissa laughed, eyes sparkling in amusement. Her voice was clear and soft, like the tinkling of bells.

 

“I do believe he thinks he does, but he liked that muggle born, Cissa. It’s clear he hasn’t the faintest idea what he needs.” Lucius sniffed with mock annoyance. 

 

Cissa shook her head amused, knowing that while Lucius meant well, it was best to leave it be. She would just have to work harder on distracting him. “Speaking of couples, isn’t it amusing that both of my cousins seem obsessed with werewolves?” 

Lucius turned his gaze toward where she indicated, her younger cousin Regulus looking starry eyed at Nic, who seemed amused by the younger Black’s attentions, and while seemingly interested, he showed nothing improper, which was unusual. Nicolas was…wolfish in several ways. Possibly had something to do with Regulus being younger than Severus, and Nic was graduated from Durmstrang already. While it wasn’t unheard of…it was a bit scandalous for men his age or older to approach those still in Hogwarts, particularly in the lower classmen. Unless they were already in a contract…pureblood aristocracy was funny that way. However, thinking back, Nic hadn’t really shown any interest in anyone else attending the ball, that sort of interest anyway. They had spent much of the evening in each other’s company. His silver eyes shifted over to the Black heir, Sirius was once again apart from the dark crowd with Remus, really him being a werewolf was one of the worst kept secrets in their society, anyone with half a brain could note that his ‘illness’ coincided with the moon. Apparently the Black boys liked male werewolves, apparently the brothers were more alike than they thought. 

Nicolas downed another drink, idly thanking his inheritance and his nationality, which meant it was nearly impossible for him to feel any buzz whatsoever. His companion, however, was not quite as lucky. Regulus, with his mixture of youth and lower body weight, was pretty tipsy, although not through any encouragement from Nic. He had made the mistake many young ones make, that keeping pace was more important than keeping their heads. The younger man swayed slightly, talking about something, Nicolas just wasn’t sure what, he was just enjoying watching his mouth move and the cadence of his speech. 

The younger Black child was beautiful, or should he be called handsome? He was smaller, slighter, his features had a more delicate appearance than his brother, so Nic would have said handsome, but English men could be prickly about wording. Regulus Arcturus Black had the same lustrous black curls and striking grey eyes as his brother, but his haughty good looks were less bombastic and boyish. More like a porcelain doll, a tad more androgynous than would be expected. He also smelled divine, like fresh cut lemons and herbs in rain water, clean and fresh, even though the smell of fire whiskey clung to him like bad cologne. Granted, it was very nice, expensive fire whiskey. Nic’s amber and emerald eyes snapped into focus when the charming boy spoke, his normally clear, haughty voice and clipped vowels were huskier than they were earlier, and a bit slurred. Thankfully, Nic spoke excellent English.

“I don’ feel so goosh.” Regulus leaned against him, grey eyes a bit cloudier than they should be. Whilst he had been protesting his sobriety earlier, he had apparently realized what Nic had noticed a while ago.

 

“I very much doubt you do, I think some fresh air and a sobering potions is needed, young Black.” Nicolas said politely, gently guiding him out of the cramped ballroom and down the quiet corridors, to a small sitting room. Normally, he would be doing this for less innocent reasons, however now, when the partner was so inebriated, was not a good idea. For many reasons, one being he had felt the pull towards Regulus even before he saw him, this was to be his mate, and as such, was completely different than a tumble in the bushes. However, mate or not, this boy was a few years younger and very drunk.

“Call me Reg, I tol you.” Reg demanded as imperiously as he could

Once in amongst the relative privacy of the sitting room, he gently sat the younger boy down, encouraging him to lay down on the emerald silk sofa. Unfortunately, the sofa was severely lacking in the usual pillows and throws, so Nic transfigured a pillow out of his fur hat, and draped his cape over the boy, handing him a glass of water while he awaited a house elf to return with a sobriety potion.

Grey eyes watched his movements, and instead of taking the potion handed to him, Regulus pulled the Volkov lord for a very sloppy, very passionate kiss. Regulus had wanted to get that out before he lost his nerve. He’d feel embarrassed about his Gryffindor impulsiveness later, but really, what was a party without a good snog from an attractive stranger? To be frank, Regulus was not nearly as innocent as his angelic looks made him appear. Regulus basked in the strength of the body above him, relished the slight burn from Nic’s stubble, and the smell of him, the taste. He smelled of musk, smoke and moss, like something wild and mysterious, overwhelming. It was even more so when the older boy kissed back, growling into his mouth. Nic pushed back, and he was so strong and solid, and while not rough enough to hurt much, he was certainly not gentle, pushing Reg flat into the couch, pinning him, his kisses were dominate, forceful, neither his tongue or lips asked permission, and he nipped the younger boy’s lips when they broke for air before suddenly pushing his mouth back on Reg, this time his mouth filled with sobriety potion, forcing him to drink. This time he pulled away completely with a mischievous grin, leaving the other breathless and now just as embarrassed as he was sober.

“So, Reg, are you feeling better?” Nic smiled from a chair opposite him, watching the younger boy struggle not to blush, like a cat playing with a mouse. It was equal parts amused and mischievous, as if he was unaffected by the kiss completely. He was better able to conceal his pounding heart.

 

Reg blustered irately, face flushed, face haughty “Feel better now that you’ve taken advantage of a young, vulnerable drunk?”

 

“Immensely, thank you for asking.” Nic laughed, amused and a bit aroused. This one would be fun to dominate, he thought as he led the annoyed boy back to the ballroom.

“So, Lucius says you are a genius with potions,” Elena said abruptly, staring into the crowd of dancers, seemingly not noticing Severus’ startled jump. Or she was simply too well mannered to point it out. “That it my favorite subject, well, that and alchemy. Those are the masteries I intend to go for.”

Severus was not exactly sure why he was so nervous and jumpy. That isn’t true, his inner voice argued, he knew damn well why he was nervous, he would just rather not acknowledge it was because he was standing beside a beautiful woman. The little he had talked to her, the more he liked her, much to his chagrin. She was quiet and serious, obviously intelligent, alchemy was not a subject for the lazy or inept. “Lucius flatters me, I would not use the word genius. I have a knack for them, and I enjoy the subject. I am taking alchemy too, but I feel more called to potions and defense.”

“Lucius rarely spouts praise he does not mean.” Elena said simply, a slight smile gracing her face, “But the attempt at humility is noted and appreciated. And honestly? Most steer away from alchemy masteries, it is not usually as practical as say, defense and potions, a lot of it is more…academic and cerebral, not to mention complex. But I, like the challenge. I find an almost poetic feeling when I have drawn the circles and calculations I need, it feels similarly to the subtle beauty of a perfectly brewed, bubbling cauldron.” 

This was the most she had ever spoken in his presence. Seeming to realize it, she colored slightly and was abruptly quiet. Severus felt a respect for her, this was one of the few pureblood females he had met that aspired for more than a family and a nice manor. He also had noted her dry humor when she noted his attempts at humility. He smiled, it was small and fleeting, but he felt completely genuine when he did it, not like all the times he did it to placate others in his life. 

 

Elena herself was privately mortified and annoyed with herself. When herself and Nic had accepted the invitation, something they really should have ages ago, she had been under the delusion that she was completely unaffected by either the opposite or her own gender. Deep down, Lena knew it was because she had never felt the pull before, but she had privately hoped she would be the one girl that lived in comfortable spinsterhood. Her own parents, Nicolas’ father and her own mother were not exactly the picture of marital bliss. Her father was similar in personality to her uncle Abraxas, and seeing her mother suffer had not instilled much desire to wed or mate and produce children. Nevermind how…they ended.

Now, she was here, in a crowd of mostly strangers(she hated balls and gatherings with a passion, not unlike most of her kind. So many hearts beating and voices made a deafening roar that hurt her ears when she was not on her potions and well fed), and she had been attracted to this particular wizard all evening. Well, attracted wasn’t the correct phrase, actually, it was deeper than that. An unfortunate part of being a creature was that you KNEW instantaneously when you had found your mate, even if your rational mind and your emotions were not on the same page. When she had first laid eyes on him, it felt like a switch was flipped in her mind, MINE was roared in her head, and it had taken her a moment to control it. Unlike her brother, Elena was not quite as interested or well versed social situations to cover it as well as he had. She could FEEL Severus’ heart beat in her temples, the overwhelming smell of bittersweet chocolate, smoke and chili flooded her nostrils, it was sharp and powerful, she could practically taste his skin and blood on her tongue. Her teeth had extended painfully, they were throbbing since then, combined with the powerful headache she had, it was everything she could to hide her discomfort. She didn’t want the Prince heir to think he was causing her pain…even though he was. Lena wanted to wrap her arms around him, run her fingers through his sleek hair and sink her teeth into his neck. 

“I am sorry, Heir Prince, I must excuse myself to the gardens, I am a bit warm.” Elena began to gracefully glide away, before she felt a hand guiding hers into his elbow.

“Severus please, Heiress. I am not used to these formalities and I would rather be…just Severus to you. I would be honored to accompany you.” Severus awkwardly stated, shifting slightly. Her small, slender hands were so delicate and so soft, and alarmingly, a bit colder than he would have liked. He rested his own calloused, potion stained fingers over hers tentatively, expecting her to pull away. His larger, rough hands looked strange holding something so beautiful.

“Then you must call me Elena or Lena, Severus.” Lena smiled, blushing lightly, allowing him to guide her out of the ballroom and through the gardens

 

Because it was December, the topiary and plants were covered in snow and frost, casting strange ghostly shadows in the moonlight. The crunch of gravel under their feet was all of the sound that could be heard, no one else had the urge to brave the chill. Their breathes were visible, the ice sparkled in the moonlight, the air practically burned Severus’ nostrils, and he gallantly casted warming charms on them both, even though his partner didn’t seem to notice the cold. Upon thinking about it, Severus mused it might not be as cold here as her home. They walked slowly, comfortable in their silence, just enjoying each other’s presence, both relieved to be out of the stifling ballroom. The gardens had been similarly decorated as the hall, candles and glittering decorations tastefully accenting the winter wonderland before them, until they got to a large white gazebo that over looked the large pond. Severus looked at the frozen water, which looked like a giant mirror, and mused the swans as well as the white peacocks that Lucius kept must have been given better winter lodgings, for he didn’t see so much as a feather of the birds. Why Lucius was so obsessed with white plumage, he wasn’t quite sure. 

Lena moved towards the gazebo, cleaning off and warming a bench, sliding onto the seat, just like a proper pure blood girl, Severus thought. It was actually interesting to note the differences between Lily and Lena, even from a short acquaintance. Lily was intelligent, independent, loud and fiery, while she had the talent for potions she did not have near as much interest, and she was the opposite of a pureblood female, probably out of spite, if he was honest. She had began to act more tomboyish once they got to Hogwarts and she had interacted with pureblood witches, whom she had snidely talked about. As prejudiced as some Purebloods were, Lily was as well, but against them. In contrast, Lena was quiet, content to let him talk or not if he wished, however he could tell just by the feel of her magic she was not weak. A bit awkward, Lena was nonetheless polite and intelligent, but not nearly as desperate to prove anything, she had dreams and interests. And yes, while Lily was pretty…Lena was beautiful, even the way she talked was lovely. Severus gazed at her profile as she looked out and the water, chastising himself slightly for sounding so shallow. 

A soft pop could be heard above them, and Severus looked up, never able to shake his mild paranoia, his wand was out. Above them, to his horror, the ceiling of the gazebo was COVERED in mistletoe. He made a strangled noise, his jaw slack, as Lena looked up, blinking.

“Ah, so this is what those two boys wanted. Heirs Black and…Lupin, yes? They have been following us for some time.” Lena softly commented, her emerald eyes glancing over to another low bench, which Severus looked toward without moving his head and he saw those damnable prats snickering behind it.

 

“I didn’t hear them.” He hissed, annoyed and embarrassed.

“So, why the plants?”

“They are mistletoe…it is traditional to kiss under them on Yule.” Severus murmured.

“Oh, is that all?” Elena leaned forward, while blushing and smiling softly, kissing him gently. While there was will to kiss more, this was her first kiss, so she just brushed her lips against his chastely, which took every ounce of her bravery.

Severus was shocked. This was not exactly how he had imagined this panning out. Not even just the prank part, he had assumed Lena would react in disgust or anger, not just kiss him.The soft kiss was merely seconds long, but it felt like a jolt of electricity, like a muggle cattle prod to his heart. Her lips were the softest thing he could imagine, and he could taste the fruity wine on her lips when he nervously licked his lips. This was Severus’ first kiss, and not at all what he had imagined. He had imagined some grand occasion when he had finally won over Lily and she fell for him, maybe after he had slain a dragon or something equally ridiculous. While unexpected…this certainly wasn’t bad, Severus thought, as he leaned in and kissed her back, gently, lingeringly, enjoying the soft gasp against his mouth. He scooted closer and wrapped a hand tentatively around the back of her head when she didn’t get angry or slap him, merely kissed him back. There wasn’t any tongues or anything that Lucius had previously told him stories about, but as Severus thought he would go into heart failure any moment, that was perfectly okay. He heard Black yell in disgust, presumably as he left, but Severus no longer cared. The only puzzling thing was Lena’s sharp teeth, which he felt a couple times as he lazily kissed her, but that was in a much quieter, not hormone influenced part. When the kiss finally broke, they were both strawberry red and smiling. 

“I think this was not their intended effect.” Lena sagely noted, looking over to where the boys had been with a mischievous smile. Maybe she wasn’t completely dissimilar to her brother.

“No, it was certainly not.” Severus smiled back. They spent the rest of the night together at the ball, much more relaxed, an excited, happy flush on their faces, even though they adhered to decorum the rest of the evening.

After his cousins had gone to their London town house, and all the other guests had left, Lucius was seated with Severus in a couple chairs in his room. The blonde had a knowing, Cheshire cat smile the whole evening, since Severus and Lena came back from the garden, and it had not ebbed in the slightest even though now it was so late it was morning. 

“So, Severus, did you enjoy your time with my cousins?” was the innocent question, with a decidedly un-innocent smile.

 

“Yes. I have permission to owl her after holidays.” Severus tried to say nonchalantly, “She is working on a difficult poison I have been wanting to try…”

Lucius didn’t let him finish, “Did you get…closely acquainted? You do realize she will be spending all of the holidays in London? You could see her a few more times before we go back to Hogwarts.”

“That would be aggregable.” Severus tried to say loftily, even though his face resembled a tomato, ignoring Lucius’ question. He knew what Lucius wanted to know, and was not interested in telling, knowing that it would likely get around the school anyway.

Unfortunately, his silence confirmed what Lucius wanted to know, and he went to bed that evening feeling very smug, almost as smug as Severus felt.


	5. Mixed Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize with the lateness of the chapter, I have been struggling with my muse lately, and have wrote this chapter multiple times and still it isn't perfect. It also isn't as long as I wanted, but it felt like a natural end to the chapter, so I went with it. 
> 
> Please comment and critique!

Mixed Feelings

Winter had come and gone, and here in Northern Scotland it was slow to relinquish its cold grip. Grass and moss crept back over the formally ice-covered stones, heathers filled out, sea birds filled the air once more. Still, one would be silly to go out without a sweater, cloak or a warming charm. The air was still chilly, having only lost some of its bite, but then the air was always chilly by the sea, and while some things changed, much did not. The air still had a salty, crisp tang, the roar of the waves crashing against the rocks, which seemed immovable and timeless, like grim sentinels, watching the dark chaos of the water with apathy. Time seemed to lose some of its meaning when presented with such a landscape. 

It was Easter Break, but most wizarding elite where preparing for Beltane, looking on with distaste as blood traitors, half bloods and muggle bourns fussed about with fake eggs, candy and ridiculous bunnies. Quiet, rebellious anger surged at the fact that the muggle holiday was so embraced, but their sacred holidays, the solstices and festivals were shunned and forgotten, when theirs was so important to the renewal of magic in the earth and in their bodies. The wizarding world was pagan, albeit more in a practical sense than many “new age” muggle practitioners, and they had a complex relationship with the gods and spirits. All of this stirred the resentment once more against the blood traitors and muggles, the anger had only gotten worse over the years since the last wizarding war, but it had been especially bad recently, with the dark faction united under their Lord. 

Even as the political scene heated up, many of the light willingly buried their heads in the sand. But not those on the dark faction, they were all busily preparing, training their heirs with gusto, writing wills. War would come, if not this year, the next, or even the one after, the tension was mounting, palpable in the Wizengamot. Exacerbated by the death of Lord Malfoy, one of the most powerful members of the dark. He had apparently taken ill soon after the New Year, with Dragon Pox, which had not been seen in close to a hundred years. He suffered, near death as his magic was slowly drained away until the Malfoy lordship ring attacked him, the multitude of silver snakes injecting him with a violent corrosive poison. The Malfoy ring was…unique, it only accepted the most powerful of the Malfoy line, if it deemed the wearer unfit it would ruthlessly kill. Another reason for the rampart patricide and fratricide, if you were the only survivor then you were obviously the strongest. Suspicion had been cast towards Lord Pellinore Weasley, whom he had a longtime feud, enough that he was arrested and questioned, but in the end released by lack of evidence. 

However, Severus knew who had really done it. Lucius, whilst he put a stoic show of grief in public, did not go over board in pretending in private. Severus had seen the vicious look of triumph, a flash of a feral grin, as he wore the lordship ring and the snake head cane at his father’s funeral. Another damning piece of evidence was instead of putting his father’s magic on his portrait and displaying it, Lucius had chosen to inter both his fathers and mother’s portraits in the family vault, refusing to honor his father’s memory. Severus had heard Abraxas’ portrait was not pleased, but it was almost a kindness, Lucius animated the painting and left it with Abraxas’ love, his long dead wife, reuniting them. He could have easily burned the painting, as he did the body (also a sign of disrespect in their society). No other Malfoy had been that disrespectful to their parent’s memory, but few who knew Abraxas said much, and even fewer had the boldness to say it to Lucius, the new Malfoy lord, who had just showed terrifying ruthlessness. If he could do that to his father…what could he do to others?

Whether or not the Dark Lord knew was hard to ascertain, it was likely he did, but he seemed content to do nothing about it if he did know. Certainly nothing to avenge his old school comrade, however Abraxas was not well liked, so it is entirely plausible the Dark Lord didn’t like him either. Regardless, the Dark Lord was silent on the matter, beyond sending his condolences, he did not seem like he cared enough one way or another, welcoming Lucius into his father’s place, his marking ceremony was set for a few days after his graduation in June. Maybe it wasn’t so surprising, given the ambitious were always welcome at his side.

One of his other rising stars, Severus, was lounging on a large charcoal couch, in his favorite room of the Prince home, the library. While Severus loved his home, his favorite rooms were the library, the potions lab and the green houses. Like most manors, there was also a ballroom, dining hall, massive kitchen, dueling room, offices, games rooms, exercise room and pool, along with more bedrooms and en suites than could possibly be needed, all held together with secret passageways and hidden doors. The grounds were also extensive, there were many gardens, a barn, stables, owlery, chicken coop, enough things to be as self-sufficient as other family seats. Again, like most, there was a liberal use of magical extensions, so this was prior to the laws limiting their use. His home and the home of every Prince lord before him. Strange thought, Hogwarts had always been his home, however tainted with bitter memories and experiences. The Marauders were a big detractor. Spinner’s End had never been home, there weren’t enough good memories for Severus to consider it as such, even when Lilly was his friend. Severus was happy to have house elves bin all but a few items in it and rent it out. But now, Severus was truly home, he had a sense of belonging, and he finally understood why purebloods were so proud of their ridiculously large houses.

The library was very different from the Malfoy library. The Malfoy home was heavy on the French baroque influences, but the Prince manor was older, the furnishings and architecture were heavier, more medieval, rougher. The stone walls were covered in the same thing that covered most of the walls of the house, in the Prince tartan, a plaid with charcoal, emerald green, sapphire blue and gold woven in. Heavy dark bookshelves and woodwork, complete with rough beams across the two-story ceiling and held up the mezzanine. There were few windows, candles and a fire provided the only light, lighting up the countless books in the magically expanded book selves. Again, unlike the Malfoy home, since the Princes (the only remaining family to carry Rowena Ravenclaw’s blood) were evenly split between Ravencalw and Slytherin houses, so the palette of the décor was more than just emerald, black and silver. This room also had less taxidermy in it, apparently one of their ancestors loved animals, both magical and muggle, or at least killing them.

The scent of parchment and ink cocooned Severus, who was surrounded by books, most on courtship. In the months since his first meeting with Lena, there had been several outings (not dates and not alone, there were rules about that), and daily letters. In fact, there was a large eagle owl heading to Durmstrang with a thick envelope currently, and every single letter that Lena had sent him was carefully, meticulously put away in a box hidden in his room, with preservation charms on the paper. Her cursive was spidery and elegant, the expensive stationary bore her family crest, a pack of wolves standing over a corpse. The Russian motto underneath it Severus hadn’t translated, but he somehow thought he got the gist. 

Severus had already decided he desired to court Lena. Well, he had decided in February, when he had taken the item on his lap out of the family vaults. It was a large silver comb type barrette, enchanted to look like gardenias made of pearl, opal and with emeralds for leaves were growing out of it, around the Prince crest. It even smelled heavenly, like a bouquet of those flowers in his hands. It was one of the items in the vaults set aside for the purpose. Some bought the first gifts, some used ones out of family vaults, it was generally more proper and traditional to go with a family heirloom however. He had already a bouquet enchanted, everything was ready to send…he just hadn’t. Nervousness, fear of rejection, curiosity warred inside his mind, and he ran over a list of things he knew from a objective view, because like any good Slytherin he had investigated her and her family. 

The Volkovs were, he found out, a rather old, infamous and powerful Russian house, who had a rather grisly past. Their founder was Vladislav Volkov, a wizard who fell in love with the witch Ekaterina who cheated on him and cursed him with lycanthropy, Vladislav then ate her lover, and raped her, killing her as well once she had bourn a litter. Not exactly a story book romance. They were apparently the family that werewolves in that part of the world descended from, a very different type than their British cousins, they were called Neuri, bourn alphas who could change at will, however Neuri were scarce now, although no less revered. They had a long, bloody history, but were surprisingly neutral politically for the most part, even though they were naturally dark. A large family who had ties to many Eastern European houses, they had intermarried with living vampires, ruskla, Neuri and veela. They were noted for power levels and ruthlessness, once you angered one Volkov the rest would descend upon you. 

There was evidence of isolated cases of madness, unlike the pervasive problem with the Black line. The previous Volkov lord had committed suicide after murdering his second wife, why is unclear but it was hinted he had always been a bit unhinged, because it was hinted his first wife’s death was suspicious. He was, strangely enough, an old friend of Albus Dumbledore. 

Whilst their family history was grim, they were still respected, wealthy and powerful, so his peers would applaud his choice simply from a social point of view. The web of connections were nothing to sneeze at, they had ties to every powerful family in Eastern Europe, and in their Ministry of Magic. Since the family hadn’t even intermarried with his, there would be no genetic complications, so that was another plus.

The problem that nagged, well, question really, was she human? Her bloodline contained a myriad of nonhuman magical blood, so it wasn’t implausible that she would go through an inheritance, if she hadn’t already, but Severus was concluding that she was a living vampire. He had observed her quite a bit on their outings, she was so pale it would make most look sickly, and her unmarred skin had an opalescent sheen to it in the sunlight which was chilled to the touch. Her touch was like a cool rag on a fevered brow, feather light but not lacking in strength. She was also very fast, although she took pains to hide it, and seemed to need to drink from a flask several times a day, going paler and seeming to have a headache, then perking up after she drank. So, either she was sickly (possible yet unlikely given her seemingly healthy appearance otherwise), or she wasn’t human. He even remembered the feel of sharp teeth during their first kiss. Then there was her otherworldly beauty, Severus had not seen any imperfections or asymmetry, and her scent, which seemingly only he could smell. Lucius had raised and eyebrow and commented she didn’t wear perfume. Both of those things were what marked a living vampire, appearance was to lure prey/mates in the old days, and the pheromones they exuded were the same, although some texts said only mates could smell their pheromones. 

But Severus had not decided how he felt about her being a living vampire. The Prince library had few texts on them, given his family had not married into their bloodlines, so the texts were vague and based on third hand knowledge. Being married to a living vampire would complicate things, without question. They mated for life, but often more than one mate, because their mates served as their food source also. Not to mention that it was very rare for them to take a human mate, since humans would die if one took their fill. There would be a sizable power difference, not to mention the prejudice she would face if the light society knew what she was. She would need to hide what she was every day if they married. Well, mated or bonded would be the correct term. And the idea of a lifelong (and given she at least was close to immortal, that is a very long time) bond was a bit daunting to the teenager, you didn’t cheat on a bonded, you couldn’t leave them, and if they died you often went with them, slowly. Also, refusal, if the bond had begun, could spell her death.

 

And Severus suspected the bond was already there. He knew what he felt, this quickly, was not normal for most. There was a strong pull, a painful emptiness when she wasn’t there, a jealous possessiveness, an aggression when others so much as looked at her. It felt like she was a magnet, and he couldn’t help his body responding to the pull, his heart pounded and “Mine” was repeated over and over in his mind. One of the books described a leaching of more…animalistic behaviors to the human mate, particularly if they were already of a possessive temperament. Severus already knew he liked her, if not love already, but it was going terrifyingly fast, even though he could not envision a future without her. He was conflicted; hence he had not sent the declaration to court.

There were a few types of courtship, the most formal type, the type he had chosen, was ultimately announcing his intention to marry her, but there were less formal versions. However, those hadn’t felt right when he considered them. A formal courtship began with a public giving of a piece of white jewelry (if the recipient was female), flowers and a card/letter with a formal declaration on it, also one to the head of the recipient’s house. It was very rigid and structured, bound by tradition, each step whilst not having a set time, had an order and gift/outing that was necessary. A different part of the contracts to work out between houses. While it was a pain, it was the most proper and traditional way of doing it, since Prince was an ancient and Noble house, and he was a half blood, he would win a lot of points by doing it that way, respecting the old ways. A large part of him didn’t care, but he also wanted to make his grandfather proud of his heir.

Broodingly looking at the barrette, Severus failed to notice Lucius enter the room, and sit in the chair opposite him, even though Lucius had announced his presence and made no effort to hide. 

“I take it that is intended for Lena? My, my, Sev, you have been studying. I applaud your decisiveness.” Lucius softly commented, actually surprised. He had known they were getting closer, but he had not known Severus was contemplating courtship.

Severus startled, covered the barrette with the silken cloth it was kept it, and growled. “I said no such thing Lucius, perhaps I just thought it was pretty. I do have to take inventory of what is in the Prince vaults, you know.”

 

Lucius appeared far from convinced, while not so uncouth as to roll his eyes, his face certainly looked like he wished he could do such a thing. “You just happen to start with a courting heirloom, whilst surrounded with books on courting? Really, Sev, that is a feeble excuse. I am congratulating you, my cousin clearly likes you, and I doubt her brother will through too many Cruciatus at you.”

 

Severus grimaced, saying nothing at first. Lucius was enjoying this far too much.

“Is this what you did when you left Hogwarts, that “family emergency” on a Saturday?” Lucius leaned back in his chair, trying not to laugh at his clearly distressed friend, who looked a bit like a frog who was beginning to realize he was in a kettle of boiling water. 

“Yes.” Was the sullen reply Severus uttered, two spots of color appearing on his high cheekbones. 

 

“That was ages ago, why haven’t you sent it?”

 

Severus opened his mouth and then closed it, a long pause stretched between them as he seemed to be thinking about what to say next. “Tell me, does Lena have any…health concerns or quirks I need know about, as a possible suitor?”

 

Lucius was somber at once, his eyes calculating, “It is not my place to say, Severus , but I know what you truly wish to know, I think. That is better discussed with the lady in question, although I would think less of you if you rejected her once you had your answer. You must think on whether you care about her enough not to care about the answer.”

 

Severus didn’t push it, knowing why Lucius had said what he did, and that would be all the response he was likely to get. “That is ultimately the question, isn’t it? My mind feels…confused on the subject, my heart answers one way, but I have concerns.”

“Again, those are best addressed with her, not with me. Although I can tell you, you are lucky you have a choice. How many of your year and mine have had their fates already decided? How many like their future spouses? This”, Lucius gestured around them, “Comes with strings attached. Responsibility, to those before us and to those who come after. We don’t get the luxury of childhoods or time to stall. Particularly now, with war brewing.”

 

Coal black eyes met silver ones, stating simply, “She is a vampire, Lucius, how much choice is there? I already feel the pull, so doubtless she does as well. If people here knew what she was, she would be hunted, like others of her kind have been. That is why there is no living vampire clan on the British Isles.” That was the fear that was near the center of his worries, he knew her kind had been exterminated systematically in the British Isles and knew she would live in fear.

 

“So you are afraid, it is not about your doubts. You are afraid for her to live here, in an environment that hates her kind. I can only tell you to follow your desires. If you feel the bond, follow it, you are meant to be together. You will never be happy with another.”

 

Severus didn’t respond, not that Lucius thought he would. Severus would come around in his own time, and there was time still, given that he didn’t graduate till next year, and her after that. Marriage was possible now, with their house head’s permission, but it was more common to wait until the dominant partner graduated. Females and submissive partners often married before they graduated, because their society saw submissive partner’s education as less important. However, Lucius knew Lena would finish her schooling and apprenticeship, marriage or no marriage, she was not the type suited to be a house wife, whereas that was pretty much what Narcissa wanted. For now, better not to push too hard, because that would have the opposite effect. 

“That is not what I came here to discuss, however, I came to ask you to accompany Lena in Diagon Alley while Nico and I run some errands in Knockturn Alley.” Lucius did not elaborate, but a pointed look informed Severus that the “errands” were probably for the dark faction. 

“Why can she not stay in their town house then?” Severus asked, with suspicion and curiosity.

“I do not tell my cousin what to do, Nico isn’t stupid enough to try either. She has expressed a wish to go to the book store for a particular tome and I thought you might like to accompany her. Also, while she can protect herself, I would rather not risk her being unattended in Knockturn Alley.” The fact that they also wanted Severus to serve as a distraction was unsaid. 

The Walprugis Knights operated with a degree of compartmentalization, like a hydra, each able to operate autonomously to a degree, with their own missions. If one cell was wiped out, another would be made, or another cell given the details to carry out their mission. While the larger scale goals and common information was known, other information was on a need to know basis so that some missions and even members were unknown to others, helping to control what enemies got a hold of and plausible deniability. The amount of knowledge was also dependent of rank, higher ranking members were the most powerful and least expendable members, the Inner Circle was comprised of powerful pureblood lords and ladies that each had a merit or a connection the Dark Lord needed. Only the elite and most useful were in the Inner Circle, and would rarely be seen in a battle, and several of his friends, like Lucius and Nico, were already earmarked for the Inner Circle because of their connections and political clout. Where Severus would be was still largely uncertain, as it depended on how his apprenticeships went, but given how good he was at several subjects, it was likely to be high. The Prince line, whilst wealthy, had not been very political in some time, given his grandfather’s failing health and lack of an heir until now, so he would need to build a reputation once more. Which would not be too terribly difficult, given his strong connection to the Malfoy house.

Thoughtfully, Severus stuffed the barrette in his cloak pocket, along with the shrunken bouquet and notes, not intending to give them to her today, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared. Truth be told, he was unlikely to turn down the possibility of more time spent with the Russian heiress. “Very well, I will chaperone her.”


	6. A Chance Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry I haven't posted in a long time, new job, family drama, holidays and writers block have been kicking my ass lately.

A whoosh of green flames lit up one of the fire places in the Leaky Cauldron. Nic stepped through, banishing the soot with a casual flick. He wasn’t dressed with near as much flash as he was at the ball, he wore a very tailored, body skimming bespoke suit in classic black merino and cashmere blend, with a crisp white linen shirt. The black silk tie, the silver wolf cufflinks, leather gloves, the black wool and fur trench like coat, it all was decidedly more modern and yet classic at the same time, which contrasted the rather traditional hat he wore, even if he wore it at a jaunty angle, and the wolf head cane. Both were nods to the past, to tradition, pureblood lords had been using canes such as these to house their wands since wands had been invented, as a replacement to the staves their rank had previously used. That was essentially the wizarding world in a nutshell, progress was very slow, much slower than that of their muggle counterpart, and they clung with pride to their traditions, never forgetting their roots, but the pace of change had quickened slightly in more recent times, and not in a very good way in some aspects.

Much like Lucius who exited the fire after him, both had the presence of European pure blood Lords that they were. They were similar, and yet different, Nic had a rakish, carelessness about him that was deceptive and disarming, while Lucius was imposing and cold as his silver eyes dismissed his surroundings. While it was clear that Lucius also wore a bespoke suit, it was in a dark green, so dark it was almost black, much like other robes he owned, with a matching cloak, hat and gloves, the dark fabric accentuating the lightness of his features, almost making it luminescent in the dark, cramped pub.

The last of the four to exit was Severus and Lena, his arm wrapped around Lena protectively. His suit was black on black, the simpler, classic cuts not advertising his wealth as overtly, but it was there in the drape of the fabric when he moved. Severus looked even taller and leaner in the dark suit, his coal black hair and eyes were glossier, more alive than they were previously, but they stood out harshly against his pale skin. He looked like the muggle stereotype of a vampire, his slender figure, imposing body language and gaunt bone structure seemed to come out of a gothic romance, albeit he was still the slightest bit young and ungainly. Age would weather and give his features even more character, he would grow into them. His tall form and flowing black cloak almost hid his lovely companion, his eyes hard and unfriendly at any who looked her way. Lena wore a long, charcoal and black subtle striped mermaid style gown, she was covered from the high lace turtle neckline down to her dainty boots, delicate gloves, with a wool and fur cloak, her garments were well made and of top shelf materials, but they were not as modern looking, women’s fashion had not advanced much since the early 1900’s, with the occasional ‘modern’ woman who looked out of the 40’s. Proper witches never wore pants, and precious few even wore knee length skirts, the very few who did these things stuck out like a sore thumb as being muggle born. Lena leaned against Severus, wrapping her arm in the crook of his, looking decidedly classier than some of their peers snuggled together in tables in the pub. 

The group moved through the pub quickly, only glancing at those they were acquainted with and nodding shortly before moving on, murmuring quietly to each other, but what they were saying was largely lost in the din of the crowded pub. They bunched together briefly as they exited.

“Nic and I will meet you outside the Silver Cauldron once our business is concluded, is that acceptable cousin? Severus?” Lucius asked politely, tugging absently at his diamond cufflinks, fastening them better.

 

“Yes, that will be fine. Lena and I will head that way, perhaps get some tea after our shopping.” Severus suggested, knowing how much Lena enjoyed tea. His obsidian eyes glanced over at her for approval and saw a nod. 

“Do not hurry, there are many books I want to look at. They haven’t translated them into Russian yet, so I cannot buy them in Moscow yet.” Lena flippantly commented as her and Severus began to walk in the direction of Flourish and Blotts. Even with magic, translating thousands of books in a plethora of languages took time, the more sought after titles got translated first in the most common languages, the more rare and obscure titles took a while. Each book had to be translated and printed in the language, with magic of course, so each individual book didn’t take overly long, but the translators were always behind and the process was inefficient at best. 

Nic and Lucius watched them go for a moment, Nic commented, “They make a handsome couple. I wonder when Severus will get around to asking for permission to court.” Rather than angry or defensive as brothers usually were, Nic sounded amused, genuinely happy for his sister.

Lucius smiled too as they began to walk away, “Sooner rather than later, I would think. You are taking this better than even I would have guessed Nic.”

“Lena is my sister, sometimes I am more like her father than her brother, it has just been the two of us even before…but I do not feel the need to be over protective. It is not as if she needs my protection anyway. I just want her to be happy.” A shadow passed over the emerald and amber flecked eyes, even though Nic’s face remained unchanged. He remembered how Lena was after…the incident. Lena had been home, with their father and her mother when it happened, he had been out at a friend’s house at the time. When a house elf retrieved him, he had found her in their father’s boudoir, in the middle of the carnage, just standing there naked, blank. Nic was sickened by the implication of why his ten year old sister was naked in his father’s room, but he didn’t show it in front of her. It had taken quite a while for him to pull her away from the dead bodies, and she had been broken after that, not that it had been overly surprising. It had taken a year for her to utter a word, and even now she would not speak of the event or if…that had been the first time, no matter how gently Nic asked. She was mostly a normal pureblood heiress now, there was lingering reserve, but that was not a bad thing necessarily. Yes, his sister deserved happiness. 

“Indeed, they both deserve it.” Lucius said quietly, knowing of what Nic was thinking without asking. The pair turned into Knockturn Alley, disappearing from the gaze of the general public, melting into the dark, vaguely sinister street.

Severus was semi grateful of the still chilly weather, it meant Lena leaned quite close against him. Whether it was entirely the chill in the air (given she generally seemed largely unaffected by the cold) or simply because she wished to, Severus didn’t really care, but at least they didn’t stand out too terribly. He had draped his cloak over them both, almost like a bat or raven guarding a small one under their wing. Also, he could see her beauty for even closer distance than would otherwise be entirely appropriate, so much the better. She looked dazzling in the daylight, her skin had a shimmery, opalescent effect, as if she had been dusted with diamonds, lending her beauty an even frostier look, like an ice queen or snow fairy, furthered by the feel of her skin, still cold, but not in an unpleasant way. The shimmery effect could be the result of a glamour, but Severus rather doubted it, Lena was not an overly vain girl, and it was really only noticeable if one was very close and was very observant. Severus, in their meetings to date, had never seen her in any color other than black or grey, her beautiful ebon locks were never elaborately styled, and he saw no evidence of cosmetics (although to be fair, cosmetics were frowned upon on minors, something that was largely ignored by muggleborns). So this was likely part of her creature nature. Every time they were apart, Severus forgot just how intoxicating and magnetic her presence felt to him, how all consuming, equally as much as the ache he felt when she was gone. He felt like his world was entirely in her orbit, albeit she was not a garish sun, but rather the moon and its comforting silvery light. 

For her part, Lena too felt the all-consuming pull, she was able to control her urges and instincts only with almost dangerous quantities of the inhibiting potions. She didn’t like taking the potions, especially in these amounts, they made the world around her feel foggy, her senses felt coated with thick leather, curiously numb. The only thing she could feel intensely was Severus, to her lower body temperature (normal for a living vampire, or even a lower undead vampire) he felt almost volcanically hot, she felt like a reptile basking in his heat, she could feel the ghost of that heat all the way down to her toes. They were like fire and ice, he felt so intensely alive, she could feel his pulse even if they were in different buildings, his pulse drowned out thousands of others, his sharp spicy scent masked the muddy mixture of others. She was in a quandary, because although her body and heart told her to follow her instincts, this was her mate…her mind had a thousand and one reasons to be cautious. He didn’t know what she was or her past, and she was too much of a coward to bring it up. Before she noticed, they were outside the bookstore, and Severus was leading her in. 

Severus breathed in the smell of parchment, ink and leather, the smell of his second favorite store in Diagon Alley. He allowed Lena to lead them into the potions and alchemy section, idly browsing titles that interested him, he didn’t have a specific title in mind, so he merely enjoyed her presence and the atmosphere, holding the feather weight charmed basket as Lena excitedly devoured books, placing newest titles gently into the basket. Unlike Lilly, who would chatter relentlessly when she was interested or excited about something, Lena would get an almost tunnel vision, a laser focus on the target of her interest, something he understood intimately because that is how he was. She didn’t fill the air with mindless chatter, when she spoke it was because she had taken great care to think before she spoke. Severus relaxed into a book nook with her, both taking arm chairs beside each other to read in companionable silence and contentment. 

Flourish and Blott’s was surprisingly quiet for a holiday break. Or maybe not so surprisingly, given Severus could think of few other students who had as keen of an interest in books. Glancing up, he saw a few students about, most notably Bartemuis Crouch Jr, a Ravenclaw a year younger than him who had, if rumor was right, caught the interest of the Dark Lord. The Ravenclaw didn’t look up, he was nearly swallowed by the book he was reading on advanced runes. There were a couple Ravenclaws and Slytherins Severus recognized, but no one of further interest to himself. 

Returning to his book, Severus and Lena spent the better part of an hour, plus some maybe, until Lena looked up, seeming surprised by the time, “Oh, Severus, I didn’t think I would take so long, how rude of me.”

“No matter, Lena, I lost track of time as well.” Severus gathered the books he was interested in, as she gathered hers, squabbling politely and quietly about who would be paying for her books. He won, as he knew he would, and they went on their way once their two large parcels were feather charmed and shrunk, tucking them into their respective pocket and purse.

 

After another hour in the apothecary and potions supply shop, perhaps another half in the Diagon Alley branch of Honeyduke’s. Several feather charmed and shrunk parcels joined the book parcels. Severus and Lena lazily walked to Fortescue’s ice cream parlor, the street had gotten considerably busier and the ice cream parlor especially. Even with the chill, Hogwarts students remaining in the UK for the holiday could not resist visiting Fortescue’s, it was basically a requirement, rain, snow, sleet or shine. Once the pair had gotten two large cones, dark chocolate for Severus and a coffee one for Lena. They seated themselves in an out of the way booth, enjoying their ice creams and talking quietly. 

 

So absorbed was Severus in their conversation that he didn’t notice the Marauders approach. 

 

“I thought you were lying, Siri, when you said Snivellus found himself a girlfriend.” Lilly spoke abrasively, startling the couple. As if broadcasting her muggle roots, she wore tight jean bell bottoms and a flowy flowered top under a olive green sweater, partially covered by a heavy muggle coat. 

Sirius and Lupin had the decency to look uncomfortable. In truth, they had eased up considerably since the Malfoy’s ball, and had been acting slightly more befitting of their status. They were both dressed appropriately in wizarding attire, even if their suits were more casual than his, they were still wearing wizarding attire rather than muggle. Pettigrew and Potter however, were like Lilly, casually dressed in Gryffindor jumpers, cloaks and jeans. 

James Potter sneered, his mouth twisted with scorn, “Perhaps we should test her for love potions, Snivellus always was good at potions, Lils. “

“Yeah, or she heard he’s an heir now.” Lilly added, spite lighting up her green eyes as she glared at Lena, the embodiment of everything she wasn’t and didn’t have. The Russian witch had bearing and posture announcing her status, that couldn’t be faked, her dress was obviously expensive, the pride in the tilt of her head and the dismissal in her eyes as she looked right back at Lilly. They were even holding hands!

There had been a special type of anger ignited in Lilly when Sirius had first told her. Well, she over heard and then demanded the details. Lilly had known for quite some time that Severus used to love her. She had known and had used that over the years to get things she wanted, precious little materially because Severus was poor, but the slavish attention was gratifying, so no matter how she had treated him, he always came back like a dog. However, it was less ideal in Hogwarts, Severus was obviously not wealthy, he would not get the fame and glory James would. Although Severus did help tremendously in certain subjects, once she began to aim for the Potter heir he was a liability. There was also his DARK leanings that were a problem, his ugliness and poverty were small failings compared to that. After she had severed ties with him, she had expected him to sink down and never get back up, but perhaps remain attached enough to be useful sometime in the future. But, after a short period of depression, Severus was his normal self, no, better, he paid her zero attention and Sirius had told her under duress about his new flame. Lilly had assumed it wouldn’t last, even though he wasn’t poor anymore, he was still ugly and dark, but this witch obviously was still around, holding hands with him, not repulsed by what he was. Obviously she was just as dark as he was, how could she not be. Lilly chose not to examine her anger, to analyze that it was jealousy. Jealousy that a toy she thought firmly hers was taken away and cared for. 

Lena tilted her head, looking at Lilly like she was dirt stuck to her shoes. “I assume your lack of manners is because you are muggle born, yes? Well, at least one of you is, the one with glasses has an heir ring.”

“You are meeting the scourge of Hogwarts, Lena. You have met Heir Black and Lupin, the glasses is Heir Potter, the blonde is Mr. Pettigrew, and the girl is Ms. Evans. You are addressing Heiress Volkov.”

“We don’t need all that nonsense, this is Sirius and Remus, I’m James, that’s Peter and this is Lilly.” James insisted, “You sound so pretentious now, Snivellius. And we don’t need to know her name, she’s obviously one of your new pureblood dark friends. “

Rage simmered under the cool façade of Severus and Lena. They could feel people staring, some laughing, others supportive, but still far more eyes than they would prefer. 

“James, we have to go. Come on, not here.” Sirius said awkwardly, trying to pull the Potter heir away. Being from a dark family, he knew this was not wise, especially in the current political clime. Also, because of the ball, he knew who she was and how important her family was, not a clan one wanted to tangle with. 

“What’s the matter Sirius? Snivellius won’t do anything.” James laughed as Severus silently glared at him. “He’s a cowardly snake, she’ll find out sooner or later.”

 

Suddenly, Severus smiled, standing up, “Why would I waste my time on trash? On mud bloods and blood traitors? No, I have a better idea, because you said something which reminded me of something I wish to remedy.”

“Your absurdly large nose?” Peter cackled, not noticing the rage on Lilly’s and James’ face.

Severus ignored them, kneeling before Lena, pulling the barrette and flowers out of his pocket, a bouquet of gardenia, amaryllis and calla lily, conjured, so the flowers would never die or fade. Wizarding folk who could see what he held were surprised, but Lilly looked confused. As he spoke, a golden cord of magic began to tie them together. “Heiress Elena Annette Volkov, would you consider pledging yourself to me, Heir Severus Tobias Prince-Snape and entering courtship with me, tying your family with mine and eventually becoming my bonded wife?”

Lena accepted the barrette and flowers, immediately putting the Prince emblazoned barrette in her dark hair, where it shone like moonlight against her dark hair. She offered her hand, which he kissed, and she said formally, “I, Heiress Elena Annette Volkov accept and hereby pledge, tying yourself to me and mine, I to you and yours. So mote it be. “

“So mote it be” He replied, barely containing a grin.

The golden knot of magic fastened them together, making them glow for a minute before disappearing and dissipating. Magic had accepted their pledge, and although her head of house and his had not been asked permission, magic looked on their courtship as binding already. The couple glowed with happiness, especially since his tormentors looked shocked and angry.


	7. Aftermath

Severus and Lena ignored the sounds of the people around them, tidying up the table since they had actually finished their ice cream prior to this interruption. The bowls and spoons vanished, presumably to the kitchen sink. As the betrothed couple stood, they walked slowly towards the exit, accepting congratulations from acquaintances politely, but not lingering, clearly in a bubble of their own happiness. 

 

The Maruaders looked considerably less thrilled, more stunned.

“What was all of that crap? Did Snivellus propose to her right in front of us?” Lilly asked shrilly of James, feeling jealous Severus was apparently engaged before her. Time to put some thumbscrews on the Potter heir.

“Yes and no, he made a declaration to formally court, it is similar to a muggle engagement in that it ends in marriage, they are courting and betrothed at the same time essentially. It is legally binding between two houses, no doubt he has either formally declared to her head of house or he will soon. Then contracts are batted around between the two families while the couple in question go through several formal courting steps. “ Remus explained patiently. “In olden days, dowries were decided upon and exchanged, but nowadays that is merely a small formality, usually candlesticks or something like.”

“So its more of the stupidly medieval stuff pure bloods do.” Lilly said scornfully, not heading the offended looks of her friends. 

 

James made a mental note to return his courting present to the family vault. He honestly should have known better…not like his parents will be altogether thrilled with welcoming a muggle born into their family. While the Potters were far more liberal and light minded than many of their peers, James was pure blood, from a politically neutral-light family, they would object to Lilly and likely forbid the marriage. And recommend a half blood or light minded pure blood. No, if James wanted to marry Lilly he would have to propose and elope, which would dishonor his family and himself. The last family to have something similar happen was the Weasleys, and that had destroyed that clan, so now they were viewed as hardly better than muggles. But still, he loved Lilly, and surely Lilly loved him, and wouldn’t drain the family vaults dry like Frida Krietch. 

The hypocrisy of the light side was that while they preached muggle borns had equal rights, they didn’t want to interbreed, instead preferring to marry other pure bloods or the scandalous half blood. So they at the base differed very little from the dark side. It took seven generations for a muggle born family to be termed a pure blood, minimum, and much longer for the remnants of stigma to be washed clean, and half bloods had the awkward position of only being accepted because of the “proper” wizarding parent. Two half bloods could make a new first generation pureblood, or a halfblood and a pureblood. So, the savvy muggle born, like Lilly, sought to marry in or conceive a half blood bastard, in order to raise her station, and to ensure her children were better than muggle born. Muggle borns could rarely find any but lower class work, either to be a peon at the Ministry or a lowly shop clerk or janitor, never being able to afford anything more than a tiny flat, if they wanted to stay in the magical world. And that was unacceptable to Lilly. 

“He did something our world views very favorably, he honored traditions.” Remus said, soft chiding in his voice. Remus himself was viewed a s a first generation pure blood, his mother was a half blood and his father a pure blood, so he knew muggles viewed such things differently, scornfully even. Muggle society had taken a different path than the magical one, muggles eschewed tradition in order of progress, because of their need for technology to better their lives. In magical society, it was the opposite, they eschewed progress for the sake of tradition, possibly because of magic. Even the lowest of the low magical person had it better than a poverty stricken muggle, food could be cooked with the aid of magic, houses clean with a flick of a wrist, many of the struggles of life were erased with magic. That was changing, Remus felt they would one day have progress and tradition on equal footing.

Lilly snorted in reply, the green monster unappeased, images of diamond rings and James on one knee danced in her mind.

The couple in question did not know or care that they were being talked about and discussed, as they made their way to the higher end of Diagon Alley, to the Silver Cauldron, where they were seated with tea things and snacks as they awaited the two remaining party members. The Silver Cauldron, unlike the Leaky Cauldron (the difference in names should be a clue), was a quiet, classy café, farther away from the entrance to the Alley, and in a quieter, more well off district. The interior was fairly modern and clean lines, cream, beiges and warm chocolate browns. Severus and Lena were comfortably seated at a comfortable booth in a isolated corner, and an automatic silencing bubble surrounded them as soon as the waiter left their tea things.

“I apologize for the timing of my declaration. I was intending to do so soon, but…” Severus trailed off awkwardly. 

“You were goaded into revealing your true feelings.” Lena said simply, stirring some cream and sugar into her tea before daintily sipping it. “I am not offended or upset, I accepted did I not? It has been a short time…but I already care for you a great deal. There is…much to discuss however.”

Severus took his tea black, and selected some dark chocolate biscuits. “I was. The Marauders, have a way of bringing out the worst in me. Well, usually. I hardly think this was altogether bad of me. I… care for you as well, more than should be possible this early. And I believe we do have things to discuss.”

“Surely you are aware by now of the prevalence of creature blood in my line. I am classified in your country as a dark creature, Severus. I could not live freely and out in the open if we were bonded, not like I can in my motherland. Sure, my inheritance is not immediately apparent, but it is there, and if someone determined finds out…” Lena’s voice cracked slightly, even though her face was impassive.

Severus leaned back, looking at the beautiful woman before him. “It does not matter to me that you are a living vampire. Our bond is already begun, I know it has, magic has decreed we are meant to be, we must only find out how. I and my house will protect you with everything we have. And…war is coming Lena. We are fighting for change. For a society where you do not have to hide, and our children or our grandchildren will be safe. “

“You have known for some time, I imagine. And yet you obviously had trepidations.” Lena commented softly.

“Yes, I did. I was worried about what the difference in our natures would mean, day to day. However, I believe now we can figure them out together, given time.” Severus responded, holding her hand. 

“I will have plenty of it, and without…outside interference, you would have quite a bit. As my mate, even if you do not change, you will live a few more centuries than would otherwise happen. I have…tomes from my kind I can send to you, so you are fully informed.” Lena smiled at Severus’ interest in the word “tome”. It is a next step in the courting process to exchange family or bloodline histories. Breeding is very important in the wizarding world, so a detailed genealogy or important information is exchanged, pretty important when mating internationally. “They are very, very old, handed down in by those in my bloodline, the Bathory line, it details our customs, history and physiology.”

“That would be appreciated, I will send some books from the Prince archives.”

In Knockturn Alley, Lucius and Nic set about their differing tasks. Nicolas did not know what task Lucius had been set, they parted ways soon after entering this darker quarter. Knockturn Alley had once been entirely respectable, it was once the center of the darker faction, a place for creatures to live and dwell, as well as more adult and eccentric stores. It was still those things, but it was, thanks to persecution, much less safe and no longer respectable. In Dumbledore’s Britain, all creatures, but especially the dark ones, were ostracized, unable to find employment, so they were an increasing number of starving, homeless creatures that lurked in the shadows. Some turned to crime, others to drug dealing and prostitution, there were several whore houses, strip clubs and adult stores in Knockturn Alley, but there were just as any prostitutes on the street corners as there was in the whore houses. It had its own potions supply shop, grocery, book store, wand shop and many other similar stores to Diagon Alley, but they were shabbier and had a slight sinister appearance.   
Nic stopped before a grubby looking pub called The Mad Dog, pushing the heavy wooden door and entering the dimly lit pub. The low light levels didn’t bother him, he could see equally well in the dark or like, and so could the occupants of this particular establishment. Nicolas took a deep breath, taking in the different scents, ignoring the amber eyes that were fixed on him. The pub was largely empty, as it was early in the day, only who Nic assumed was the owner, and who he was set to meet. Nicolas confidently strode in even though his senses protested, he could smell the scent markers marking territory all around him, and he sat down across from his task, Fenrir Greyback. 

Nic didn’t bow, or in any way submit to Fenrir, or even acknowledge he was in his territory, which was contrary to werewolf custom. Fenrir growled but Nicolas payed him no attention, instead taking a deep breath, breathing in Fenrir’s scent and eyeing him critically.

“So, you are what passes for an alpha in the British Isles?” Nic smiled, showing his teeth, he had eight sharp teeth, four sharpened canines on top, for on the bottom. 

“I am an alpha of the largest pack here, show some respect.” Fenrir growled out. 

“Likely only from lack of competition. I come here on behalf of my Lord, he would have your allegiance in the coming war. I need hardly tell you how much better our kind would fair under dark leadership.” Nic continued, seemingly unthreatened.

Greyback shot up, throwing the table aside, changing into his werewolf form easily, like one would put on a robe. He was a large, battle scarred dark grey wolf, with a silver stripe down his back. He advanced, snarling and snapping his jaws toward an unimpressed Russian. 

Nic slowly got up, he was eye to eye with Greyback in his wolf form, and just as large even unchanged. “However, if I dethrone you, I secure allegiance and show to my British cousins what a true alpha is.” 

With that said he too changed. The sound of bones breaking tore the air, as Nic got even taller and bulkier. He was now well over 7 feet tall, and about a foot wider than he was previously, more powerfully built than his challenger. Nicolas was covered in a luxuriant black coat, his eyes were now entirely amber, his teeth gleamed in what appeared to be a wolfish smile. He cracked his knuckles, twiddled his claws and then lunged straight for Greyback’s throat and the barkeep looked on, unconcernedly cleaning glasses. 

An hour later, Lucius and Nicolas joined Severus and Lena, in time for a delightful lunch. Neither Severus or Lena asked about the errands, but both Lucius and Nicolas looked content. Nicolas had a few small cuts and bruises, but those were rapidly healing, and his clothes were impeccable, his bearing prouder than before. Yes, it had been an interesting day for all concerned.


End file.
